#fic: under a golden sun

[artemiseamoon]

Under A Golden Sun 3

Daniel x f reader (or read as oc) | past Benny x f reader (or read as oc)

Words:4,009

Preview * Read in full on A03

Fic info and further warnings

The next morning

The tension from last night didn’t let up.

Over breakfast, Daniel continued to play his usual chill self, and Benny was quiet as a mouse, you could feel him sulking and retreating deeper into himself.

A breath of fresh air didn’t come until the end of it, as you all ate the last bits of food and Daniel started talking about music. He mentioned some bands you knew Benny was also into, and you wondered if he did it on purpose. Daniel would try to build a bridge; he is a peaceful guy.

At first, Benny didn’t really take the bait. You started adding into the conversation and that seemed to make Benny more comfortable. Soon, the two were in an animated conversation about greatest albums, riffs and solos.

You were soon able to sit back and just enjoy being a witness as the two of them connected for the first time. It felt genuine, and since meeting Benny on that road, you felt like you could finally take a deep breath yourself.

Toward the end of the conversation, you felt a bit of worry. You still had to have a conversation, all three of you, about Bennys stay. You didn’t want to ruin this newfound lightness, so suggested Daniel take Benny out to surf. It wasn’t your thing, but you liked to watch. As Daniel surfed, you’d kick back on the beach with a drink and enjoy the way he looks on the waves.

You never got to do this with Benny, and if he said yes, you’d knock a little fantasy, you always wanted to see him on a surfboard.

.

A couple of hours later

Rolling onto your stomach, your eyes fixed on the water as Benny and Daniel headed back. The wide smiles on both their faces were a breath of fresh hair - maybe all this will work out.

The sight alone brings a smile to your face. To have both of your loves here, now, it all feels so unreal - like a dream, you could pinch yourself.

“How’d I do?” Benny asked as they approached you.

“Really good,” you sat up and kissed Daniels shoulder as he sat beside you.

Benny chuckled and sat on the other side of you. You watched as he laid his board down, his wet hair in his face. To your right, Daniel placed another sweet peck on your shoulder.

You don’t want to be checking Benny out, but you can’t help it. Like Daniel, he’s already slipped the top half of his wetsuit off and tied it at his hips. Sun beaming down on his golden locks and bare skin make him impossible not to look at.

So, you did it from the corner of your eye, trying to be discreet, but you're sure you’ve been caught. Unless Daniel just kissed you to kiss you - which, he did all the time.

Just as you were about to look away, Benny glanced at you - those eyes you love so much capturing your own.

You smiled at him then dropped your gaze to the sand.

“Um - “you take a beat, “now that we’ve had some fun, we should talk about some things.” You glanced at Daniel who nodded softly, “the truck won’t be ready for a bit so, and we both agreed you can stay, “you turned to Benny. “We want you to stay. And in order for that to be as peaceful as possible, there’s just some things we need to talk about.”

Benny nodded, “I get that.”

“Okay, “you reached over and placed your hand over his. Then you glanced at Daniel, “want to take over from here?”

“Sure. So - “

Read more on A03

More Garrett on my masterlist

No tags | @artemiseamoon-updates | subscribe to the fic on A03

[artemiseamoon-updates]

Complete!

Under a Golden sun

A03: artemiseamoon

[d1stalker]

This is Ours [Logan Howlett]

Summary: It's your first time back at your grandparents' farm in years, and while many things are the same, one thing is not: they've hired a new farmhand.

Warnings: fem!reader, SMUT, sexual tension, angst, fluff, lots of feelings WC: 18.8k - MASTERLIST

A/N: apologies for dropping another long fic but i literally could not stop writing the juices were flowing. i really hope you enjoy this! i think its my fave so far :)

----

For as long as you can remember, summers were synonymous with your grandparents' farm. It was a tradition, one you held close to your heart. To you, your time there embodied your entire childhood—days spent under the sun, where the air was thick with the scent of wildflowers and the soothing chorus of cicadas filling the long, golden afternoons.

Mornings began early, with you bounding downstairs to join your grandparents for breakfast. The kitchen was always filled with the comforting aroma of fresh coffee and pancakes. Your grandfather would be at the table, engrossed in his newspaper, while your grandmother hummed softly as she cooked, the sound of the morning radio playing faintly in the background. Your days were spent exploring the fields, helping with the chores and horses, or sitting on the porch with your grandmother, listening to stories from her youth.

It couldn’t get any more perfect than that. 

But as the years passed, things changed. After you graduated high school, the summer visits became less frequent. University took up more of your time, and you were always busy—first with classes, then with internships, and finally with starting your career. The farm, once the centre of your world, became a place you could only visit if you were lucky, and even then, it was never for long. 

You miss it.

This year, however, things were different. You found yourself in between jobs, with the first real break you’d had in what felt like forever. And when the moment the opportunity arose, you knew exactly where you wanted to go. 

—

The drive to your grandparents' farm is a journey into the past. The country road, lined with trees that stretched out like old friends, brings back a flood of memories from your childhood: where you’re sitting in the back of your parent’s car vibrating with excitement. You pass the same fields, still as vast and green as you remember, dotted with flowers swaying gently in the breeze, and the old oak tree where you used to swing as a child stands tall, its branches reaching up to the sky as if welcoming you back.

When you finally pull up to the farmhouse, the sight of it fills you with a deep sense of nostalgia. The white paint is more chipped than you remember, the porch sags a little more in the middle, and you can tell that it’s been a while since the grass was last trimmed. 

Stepping out of the car, the screen door squeaks open, and there’s your grandmother, standing on the porch, wiping her hands on her apron. She’s smaller than you remember, more fragile, but the smile on her face is the same—warm, welcoming, and full of love. “There’s my girl,” she calls out, rushing down the steps and into the driveway as fast as she can. 

“Grandma!” you exclaim, hurrying toward her to wrap her in a hug.

She pulls back to look at you, her eyes twinkling despite the lines of age etched on her face. “You’ve grown even more beautiful, but you look tired. We’ll fix that with some good meals, won’t we?”

You laugh, nodding. “I missed your cooking.”

“And I missed having someone to cook for,” she replies with a chuckle, patting your cheek. “Come inside. Your grandpa’s been counting down the days until you got here.”

You grab your suitcase from your car and follow her into the house, the familiar scents of fresh bread and old wood enveloping you the minute you step inside. It’s just as you remember—cozy, lived-in, filled with the glow of years worth of love and memories. Your grandfather sits at the kitchen table, a pair of reading glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he reads a book. He looks up as you enter, and the moment he sees you, his face breaks into a wide grin.

“There’s my favourite farmhand,” he jokes, letting out a grunt as he places one hand on the table, slowly pushes out of his chair. 

“Grandpa,” you say, meeting him halfway for a hug. 

“Got here just in time,” he says with a wink. “Plenty of work to do, you know.”

“I figured,” you reply, playfully nudging him. “I’m ready to get my hands dirty.”

“Good to hear,” he says, leaning back against the table for support. “This old back of mine isn’t what it used to be.”

Your grandmother sets a glass of lemonade in front of you and sits down, her eyes flicking toward the window. “We’ve had to make some changes around here, sweetheart,” she begins gently. “Your grandpa and I… well, we can’t do as much as we used to.”

You hum, listening carefully. Seeing your grandparents grow older is difficult—it's a constant reminder that time is slipping away, and the moments you have together are becoming more precious with each passing day.

“We’ve hired some help,” she continues. “A man named Logan. He’s been a blessing, really, taking care of the heavier work. But he’s… well, he’s not much of a talker.”

“Logan?” you ask, glancing out the window. 

That’s when you see him. Tall and broad-shouldered, he is out by the barn, carrying some hay. He’s wearing a worn-down flannel with jeans, and his dark hair is slightly tousled. Even from a distance, you can tell he’s strong—he looks like he knows what he’s doing. 

“Yeah, Logan,” your grandfather confirms. “Keeps to himself mostly, but he’s get’s the job done. Don’t mind his gruffness; he’s just not used to people fussing over him.”

“He’s been here since last spring,” your grandmother adds. “We needed the help, and he needed the work. It’s been good for both sides. You should go and introduce yourself after you unpack, dear. Maybe get in some work before we sit for dinner later.”

Nodding, you walk up the stairs in the house and make your way to your room. It looks exactly the same as the last time you saw it. Your old stuffed animals are organized neatly on the shelf above the bed, and the quilt your grandmother made for you, with patches of faded fabric from old dresses and curtains, is spread across the bed the exact same way it’s always been. 

The posters on the walls, the little knickknacks on the dresser—everything is a snapshot of your younger self, preserved in this room like a time capsule. It’s comforting, but also a little bittersweet, a reminder of how much time has passed since you had last visited.

After a few moments of reminiscing, you stand up and begin unpacking, carefully placing your clothes in the old wooden dresser. Each drawer creaks as you open it, the sound a part of this room’s charm. You smile as you come across some of the little treasures you left behind—a pressed flower between the pages of an old book, a seashell from a family trip to the coast, and last, a picture of you and your grandparents taken one summer when you were about ten.

You’re standing between them, beaming with a toothy grin, their arms wrapped around you in a warm embrace. The three of you are standing in front of the barn, with the sun setting behind you. You can almost hear your grandmother’s laugh as the camera clicked, your grandfather’s playful grumbling about having to pose for ‘just one more picture.’ The photo captures a moment of pure happiness, a snapshot of a simpler time.

Setting the photo down, you quickly begin to change into your designated farm clothes, and head out to meet the new face around here. 

The trek to the barn isn’t very long, just a few minutes away from the main house, and from the outside, you can hear the familiar sounds of work—footsteps crunching on the hay-strewn floor, the creak of wood as something heavy is moved. You pause at the doorway, taking a moment to observe him before stepping inside. He’s focused, his movements efficient as he lifts another bale of hay and stacks it with the others. 

You take a deep breath, and step into the barn. “Logan?” you call out softly.

He doesn’t stop what he’s doing, but with a slight pause and glance over his shoulder, his eyes, sharp and intense, meet yours, and there’s a moment where you’re not sure what to say. “I’m—”

“I already know who you are,” he grunts, cutting you off. 

His abruptness catches you off guard, but you quickly recover, nodding. “Right. I guess that makes sense.”

“If you wanna help, there’s a broom in the back shed,” he continues, going back to his work as if the conversation is already over. “You could sweep up the hay.”

You bristle, a little surprised at how quickly he dismissed you, but you’re determined not to let it rattle you. After all, your grandparents did warn you that he wasn’t much of a talker.  “Sure,” you say. “I can do that.”

As you turn to head toward the back shed, you find yourself lightly imitating his gruff tone under your breath, a flicker of irritation running through you. “There’s a broom in the back shed. Yeah, obviously, I know where the broom would be,” you mutter.

In the shed, the broom is in fact, exactly where you expected it to be, and you huff, grabbing it and walking back to the barn. When you return, Logan is still hard at work, stacking the hay, and doesn’t bother to acknowledge you yet again. You set to work sweeping, the rhythmic motion of the broom soon lulling you into a steady state. The barn is quiet, save for the soft shuffling of hay under your broom and the occasional grunt from Logan as he moves the heavy bales.

Time seems to pass slowly, the light outside growing softer as the sun dips lower in the sky. You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you barely notice when Logan’s footsteps stop. It’s only when his voice breaks the silence that you’re pulled back to the present.

“Your grandma called for dinner,” he says, causing you to jump a bit at the unexpectedness of his voice in the silence. Before you can respond, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there with the broom still in hand. You let out a small sigh, feeling the tension in your shoulders. This is going to be a long few months, you think to yourself as you return the broom to its usual place and jog back to the farmhouse.

Inside, the kitchen smells like a warm hearty stew. The table is already set, the familiar blue-and-white checkered tablecloth in place, and your grandparents are seated, chatting quietly as they wait for you and Logan to join them.

You slide into the seat across from your grandmother just as Logan walks over from the sink, two glasses of water in his hands. He places one in front of you with a quick nod, and the other at his own seat, beside yours.

“So,” your grandmother says, her eyes shining with curiosity as she looks between the both of you. “I take it you’ve introduced yourselves to each other?”

You hesitate momentarily, your mind flashing back to your brief encounter in the barn. “Yeah, we have,” you reply, managing a smile, if you can call it that. 

Logan doesn’t say anything, his focus on the bowl of stew in front of him. He doesn’t seem interested in joining the conversation, which only adds to the growing sense of awkwardness you feel. You glance at him briefly, wondering if he’s always this closed off or if it’s just his way of dealing with new people.

“Well, that’s good,” your grandmother says, either oblivious to the tension or choosing to ignore it. “Logan’s been a big help around here. We’re so grateful to have him.”

Your grandfather hums in agreement, scooping a spoonful of stew into his mouth before adding, “He’s got a strong work ethic. Doesn’t shy away from the tough jobs, that’s for sure.”

Nodding along, you feel the pressure to say something positive. “That’s great. It’s good to know the farm’s in good hands.” Even thought the words are definitely a bit forced, you mean it. 

As the conversation continues, your grandparents shift the focus to you, asking about your job search and what you’ve been up to since you last visited. You give them a brief rundown of the interviews you’ve had, the options you’re considering, and the challenges you’ve faced. You try to keep it light, not wanting to worry them with your uncertainty, but you can’t help but notice the man’s presence beside you, still silent. 

At one point, when you’re talking about finding a new apartment, you hear him let out a quiet scoff, and you cast a look over, catching the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips. It’s gone almost as quickly as it appears, but it’s enough to make you pause. You want to ask him what that was about, to challenge him on whatever it is he’s thinking, but you bite your tongue. This isn’t the time or place, not in front of your grandparents who are just happy to have everyone around the table.

They continue to chat with you, asking more about your plans and offering their usual words of encouragement. When dinner finally wraps up, your grandmother insists on cleaning up, waving you off when you offer to help. “You’ve had a long day, dear. Why don’t you go relax? Logan can help me with the dishes.”

You smile. “Thanks, Grandma.”

He’s already started collecting the dishes by the time you stand up, but it’s like he refuses to recognize your existence, and that pisses you off. 

—

The next morning, you wake before dawn, the world still wrapped in the gentle embrace of night, and for a moment, you lie still, listening to the deep, pulsing of the house—the way the wooden floors creak slightly as they settle, the distant sound of the wind rustling through the trees outside. The comfort of knowing your grandparents are asleep down the hall brings a sense of calm that you haven’t felt in a long time.

Deciding to take advantage of the early hour, you slip out of bed, your feet brushing against the cool floor as you stretch, feeling the muscles in your body slowly wake. You dress quietly, pulling on a soft, worn sweater, and pad downstairs, careful to avoid the spots on the stairs that you know will creak.

You move through the kitchen as if on autopilot, your hands knowing exactly where everything is. You set the coffee to brew, and the rich aroma sills the room.

Reaching for the eggs, you crack a few of them into a bowl, and as you’re whisking, you let your mind wander, thinking about how to spend the day. The soft sizzle of butter in the pan gets your attention and you pour the eggs in, watching as they begin to set around the edges. 

You pour yourself a cup of coffee, the steam rising from the mug in delicate spirals, and you take a sip, savouring the warmth and flavour hitting your tongue, while your gaze drifts over to the window that faces the back of the farmhouse. 

Your grandparents’ own horses, and you recognize some of them from when you were younger. It makes you happy knowing that they’re still being well taken care of. The way the early light touches the land, and the morning dew covers the grass, you can’t help but smile into your mug. 

Slowly, you walk a bit closer to the window, eager to take in the view you had been missing all these years, when a figure standing over by the horses catches your eye. It’s Logan, a small surprise given the early hour—you didn’t hear him wake up—but he stands there, leaning casually against the fence, an apple in his hand. 

You watch as he holds out the apple to one of the horses, his rough hand moving gently over its neck as it eats. There’s something unexpectedly tender in the way he interacts with the animal, a patience and care that you didn’t expect to see from him, given how he acted yesterday. 

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out another apple, offering it to the second horse, who hungrily accepts it. You continue to stare at the sight outside. This side of him—so different from the unapproachable exterior he’s shown so far—stirs something inside you, a desire to connect with him, to see if there’s more to him than meets the eye.

On impulse, you quickly turn off the stove, grab a second cup of coffee and some toast you’ve just buttered, and without overthinking it, you head outside. The morning air is cool against your skin as you make your way over to Logan. 

As you approach, he keeps his attention focused on the horses. You take a moment, then clear your throat lightly, holding out the coffee with a tentative smile. “Thought you might want some breakfast,” you offer, trying to keep your tone light and friendly.

He finally glances at you, his eyes briefly meeting yours. His expression is just as unreadable his had been in the last sixteen hours you’ve known him, and then he grunts, “Already ate,” and turns his attention back to the animals in front of him.

His curt, and honestly rude rebuffals really frustrate you. It’s not like you’re asking him to wipe your ass after you go to the washroom, so you have absolutely no idea why he’s like this. 

“Alright,” you mutter, lips pressed together in a thin line, and turn to head back into the kitchen. 

Once inside, you set the untouched coffee and toast back on the counter with a sigh. This is so fucking awkward. You’re going to be spending the next however-many-months with him, and you would love it if you could at the very least, get along. His rough-around-the-edges personality is not making this enjoyable for you, and you’re sure that he probably just see’s you as an annoying nuisance. 

And it’s not like you’re ever going to pull this card on him or anything, but you have been here longer than him, despite the fact that he’s acting like he owns the place. You get it, he’s been here for a for a while, and it’s only been him doing the work, blah blah. But you’ve been helping and doing the work your entire childhood—missing a few years doesn’t take away that fact. 

With a heavy sigh, you open a cupboard and pull out a plate, scraping the eggs off the pan and setting them on it. Because your grandparents’ are still asleep, all you can do is eat in silence.

—

You’ve decided that today you are going to trim the grass. There’s always something to do around here, and since the long grass was one of the first things you noticed upon arrival, you think it’s best to just get that chore over with, considering how long you know it will take. 

Once you’ve finished cleaning the dishes and pan, you go back upstairs into your room and get changed. Today, you put on a long sleeve, and a small vest over top. Your pants are some hand-me-down working pants from one of your older cousins, and you snatch a baseball cap from your closet for when it begins to get hotter out. 

Walking to the back shed, you grab some tools for trimming the lawn. A lawn mower, a string trimmer, and a rake for after everything’s been cut. Moving over to the back section of the lawn, you set the trimmer and rake against the barn and start using the mower. It’s the same one your grandparents have used since you were a child, so it’s a reel lawn mower instead of those newer, more electrical ones you’ve seen around the city. 

You can’t really complain about it, so you just begin, the steady repetitive action of moving the tool back and forth being somewhat therapeutic. The smell of freshly cut grass begins to hit your senses, and you truly feel at peace. 

As the minutes pass, the sun rises higher, its warmth spreading across the fields. You’re completely absorbed in your work, the rhythm of mowing and the occasional chirp of birds the only sounds around you. You’ve missed this. The sounds of cars honking and early morning city traffic has nothing on the serenity of country life. 

You’re just completing the first half when you sense movement nearby. Glancing up, you see Logan walking up to you, having grabbed the trimmer. He doesn’t say anything, just starts up the machine and heads over to the next patch of grass within the area.

There’s a brief moment of eye-contact, like a subtle unspoken recognition to the effort you seem to be putting in. He gives you a small nod, and turns to focus on his task. The two of you work side by side, the hum of the machines, the scent of fresh-cut grass, and the warm sun overhead creating a strangely comforting atmosphere. 

When you finally finish, few hours have passed, and you walk back over to the barn and grab a lawn bag and the rake. And because Logan’s machine was electric, he seems to have finished his section as well, so you begin raking up all the stray pieces of grass. 

You quick to find out how awkward it is to hold the lawn bag open with one hand while trying to rake with the other—the grass keeps slipping out of the bag, and you can’t help but feel a bit ridiculous as you fumble with the task. You scan around, hoping Logan won’t notice, but of course, he’s right there, watching as you flail around.

You feel a flush of embarrassment creep up your neck, but before you can say anything, he steps forward. Like usual it seems, he doesn’t say a word, just holds out his hand as if asking for the rake. You falter briefly, not wanting to seem like you need his help, but at the same time you understand how much more efficient it would be if he joined. 

Reluctantly, you hand it over, and he immediately starts working with the same steady efficiency he brought to trimming the grass. With both hands free, you manage the lawn bag more effectively, holding it open as Logan rakes the grass into neat piles.

The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable; instead, it feels like a natural extension of the morning’s work. The sound of the rake scraping against the ground, the rustle of grass being gathered, and the occasional whinny from a horse nearby. 

After the last of the grass is finally raked and bagged, you tie off the lawn bag and glance over at him. He leans the rake against the barn wall and meets your gaze. There’s something in the way he seems to stare at you head on this time, rather than just a quick look, that makes your chest fill with satisfaction. 

You nod. “Thanks.”

Logan dips his chin in return, then turns and heads back toward the barn. The heat of the sun really starts to hit you now, and you take a peak at your watch, noticing that it’s already lunch time. Knowing that even if you tried to invite him, he’s probably say no, you just walk back to the farmhouse alone. 

—

The next couple of weeks unfold in the same way, moving with an almost predictable rhythm. Each morning, you wake before the sun, quietly slipping out of bed while your grandparent’s are still asleep. As you prepare and eat breakfast, you take your usual place by the kitchen window, watching as Logan interacts with the horses. 

Then, as the sun rises higher, you head out to begin your chores around the farm. Sometimes, Logan joins you without a word—his presence now a familiar and abating part of your routine—or sometimes, you find yourself working alone, but even then, you know he’s never far away. 

You’ve learned to read his silences, to understand that his gruff demeanor isn’t necessarily unfriendliness, but rather his way of navigating the world. And though he doesn’t speak much, his actions have a way of communicating more than words ever could.

One morning, as you’re finishing up breakfast, your grandparents announce their plans to head into one of the nearby cities for the day. “We need to run some errands and pick up a few things,” your grandmother explains, her hands busy packing a small bag. “But we were thinking it might be nice for the horses to get out and see some different scenery too.”

“They haven’t been to the pond in a while. It’s good for them to stretch their legs and take in some new sights.” Your grandfather chimes in. 

You nod, smiling at the thought. The pond is a beautiful spot, a peaceful place where the water runs clear and cool, surrounded by tall trees and soft grass. It’s the perfect place to spend a day with the horses. “That sounds like a great idea. I’ll take them out there for the day.”

Your grandmother’s eyes light up as she hands you a basket. “I packed some food and a blanket for a picnic. There are also a couple of towels in case you want to swim. It’ll be a lovely day for it.”

“Thank you,” you say, appreciating the thoughtfulness behind the preparations. You take the basket and head upstairs to get ready, the idea of spending the day by the pond filling you with excitement. It’s been a long time since you’ve been there last. 

In your room, you change into your bathing suit, a simple bikini that you’ve always loved for its comfort and ease. You slip on a loose shirt and shorts over it, then grab a few essentials before heading back downstairs. Your grandparents have already left, so you make your way out to the barn to prepare the horses.

As you start saddling them up, you notice Logan nearby, focused on his usual tasks. His presence has become so customary to you that you hardly think twice before calling out to him. “Hey, Logan,” you say, catching his attention.

“I’m heading to the pond with the horses,” you tell him, nodding toward the saddled horses. “Grandma’s packed some food and a blanket for a picnic. There are even towels if you want to swim. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like.”

He hesitates, his gaze shifting to the horses, then back to you. After a moment, he mutters, “I’ve never ridden a horse before.”

The admission takes you by surprise, and you raise an eyebrow. “Really? But you’ve been here for over a year. I just assumed—”

He shakes his head slightly, cutting you off. “I’ve always just walked alongside them. Holdin’ onto the reins is one thing, but I’ve never actually been on top of one.”

You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “That’s okay,” you say gently. “You can still join us. You can walk alongside like you usually do, and tomorrow, if you’re up for it, I’ll teach you how to ride.”

Logan peers at you for a long moment, considering your words. Finally, he nods. “Alright. I’ll come with you.”

“Great,” you reply, your smile widening. “I think you’ll enjoy it.”

With that settled, you both finish preparing for the trip. Logan helps you load the picnic basket, blanket, and towels onto one of the horses. You mount your favourite horse, and gently click your heels into its side, starting the trip as he begins walking, horses in tow, beside you. 

The journey to the pond is beautiful. The green trees that frame the pathway, the soft buzzing of nature, the sound of the horses’ hooves. You and Logan exchange a few words, but for the most part, it’s silent. 

When you reach the pond, the sight is just as picturesque as you remembered. The water sparkles under the sunlight, the tall trees casting dappled shadows across the grassy bank. You untie the horses, giving them plenty of room to graze and explore, before you grab the picnic basket, while he grabs the towels and blankets. Making your way over to the other side of the creek, you find a nice open patch of grass to set up on.

“I’m going for a quick dip,” you say as you go about stepping out of your shorts. Logan, who is sitting down, looks up, but his eyes seem to stop dead in their tracks when they settle on your body. You swear you can physically see his gaze darken as he takes in the sight of you stripping off your shirt. It’s subtle, but a small shiver runs down your spine at the attention nonetheless.

Without waiting for a response, you turn and and head toward the pond. The temperature is perfect: just cool enough to be refreshing without being cold.

You dive in, the reservoir embracing you as a much-needed relief from the heat. Everything feels perfect—the gentle current against your skin, the refreshing sensation of being submerged, and the weightlessness of floating just beneath the surface. 

But when you lift your head out of the water, you and Logan immediately lock eyes.

He’s lying back on the blanket, propped up on one elbow, and his focus is squarely on you. The intensity of his stare is like a physical force, pinning you in place. The world around you seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you suspended in time. Your breath catches in your throat, and you can feel a heat build within you, starting in your chest and traveling down, deeper, and deeper…But then, just as suddenly as it began, he looks away, and if you were any closer, you may have been able to spot the red flush creeping up the back of his neck and to the tip of his ears.

The moment is over, but the enduring feeling of it stays with you as you swim back to the shore. Water drips from your body as you step out, and you reach for one of the towels your grandmother packed. Once you’ve dried off, you walk over to where Logan is sitting and drop down beside him on the blanket. 

You are aware of eyes on you again, though this time there’s a hesitation in the way they travel over your form, as if he’s trying to be discreet but can’t quite help himself. You pretend not to notice as you reach for the picnic basket.

“I’m starving,” you say, pulling out the sandwiches your grandmother packed. “Want one?”

He nods, sitting up a little straighter as you hand him a sandwich. After a few bites, curiosity gets the better of you, and you decide to break the ice. “So,” you start, glancing over at him, “how did you end up here, working on my grandparents’ farm?”

He takes his time chewing and swallowing before he answers, his eyes focused on the food in his hands. “I was passing through,” he says finally. “Didn’t plan on stayin’. But your grandparents… they’re good people. Needed help, so I stuck around.”

You nod, taking another bite. “They are good people,” you agree, thinking of how much they’ve done for you over the years. “But where were you headed before that? Where are you from?”

Logan pauses for a moment, then looks over at you. “Alberta,” he says. “Grew up there, mostly. Been a lot of places since, but Alberta’s home—or was.”

You smile, finding comfort in the fact that he’s sharing a bit more. “Alberta’s beautiful,” you say, remembering the few times you’d traveled through the province. “Why’d you leave?”

He shrugs, glancing out toward the creek. “Needed a change. Wanted to see what else was out there. Guess I got used to movin’ around, never really settlin’ anywhere.”

You nod thoughtfully, taking in his words. “Must have been hard, never really having a place to call home.”

His gaze meets yours, and there’s a hint of something softer in his eyes. “Yeah,” he admits, his voice quieter. “But your grandparents… they’ve made it easier. This farm… it’s good.”

You smile warmly at him. “I’m glad you’re here. You’ve been a huge help to them. And… well, I’ve liked having you around.”

He glances at you, his expression softening just a fraction. “Yeah, it’s been alright,” he mutters, a small, imperceptible smirk on his lips. You smile bashfully.

The next couple of hours pass by in a blur. Not much conversation happens, but rather, these weird periods of time where you feel as though your eyes are glued to him, and he you. It’s different—unexpected—and to put it frankly, you feel a bit shy underneath his gaze. 

Logan is attractive, anyone with eyes could see that, but it really wasn’t just his face that pulled you in, it was him. The way he would silently help you with chores, his soft moments every morning with the horses, the way he subtly looks over your grandparents’ when he thinks they arent watching. All of it. You want to spend more time with him, learn more about who he is, what he likes… all of it.

Soon enough, you both begin to pack up the picnic supplies, load up the horses, and head back to the farm. The horses seem content, having had a fun day grazing and napping by the pond, and you ride beside him as he walks. Every now and then, you catch him peeking up at you from under his eyelashes, his eyes lingering just a bit longer each time. 

You can see your grandparent’s car in the driveway as you near the farm, meaning they’ve also returned from their day in the city. Leading the horses back into the barn, the two of you go through the motions of the familiar routine of unsaddling them, brushing them down, and making sure they’re comfortable for the night. 

Once they’re all settled for the night, Logan steps back, wiping his hands on his jeans as he looks at you. 

“So ‘bout tomorrow…” He begins, shifting slightly, as if unsure how to phrase what he wants to say. “You really think you can teach me to ride?”

You grin excitedly. “Of course. I’ll come out after I’ve eaten breakfast.”

“Alright then,” he says, pivoting toward the doors, his lips twitching just barely, but enough. “Lookin’ forward to it.”

Your fingers are twitching at your sides as you watch him leave. You wait a few moments, then head out as well, closing and locking up the barn for the night. When you step into the house, you find your grandparents in the living room, their faces lit by the soft glow of a lamp as they relax on the chesterfield. 

“How was your day?” your grandmother asks, looking up from her knitting with a bright smile.

“It was nice,” you reply. “The horses loved it, and the pond was as beautiful as ever. We had a picnic, and it was really peaceful.”

Your grandfather, who’s been quietly sipping his tea, sets down his cup and regards you with a knowing look. “And Logan? Did he go with you?”

You nod, feeling a bit of warmth rise to your cheeks at the mention of their helper. “Yeah, he came along. He’s never ridden a horse before, so he just walked with us. But I’m going to teach him tomorrow.”

Your grandparents exchange a look, and your grandmother’s eyes sparkle with amusement and something more tender as she smiles at you. “That’s good, dear. He’s a bit of a mystery, that one, but I can tell he’s got a good heart. Sometimes people just need a little time to open up.”

Chatting with your grandparent’s a bit longer, you listen intently as they fill you in on their activities. You can faintly hear the sound of Logan’s footsteps upstairs as he gets ready for bed. The memory of his gaze on you makes your heart beat a smidge faster. 

—

Logan is unsurprisingly already at the barn when you arrive the next morning. He’s leaning against it, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Morning,” you greet. “You ready to get started?”

Logan glances at the horses, then back at you. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

You lead him over to the horses, choosing one of the gentler ones for him to work with, and begin by showing him how to properly saddle the horse, explaining each step as you go. Logan watches intently, though you can see the slight furrow in his brow as he takes in all the information.

As soon as the horse is all saddled up, you hand him the reins. “Okay, now it’s your turn. Go ahead and mount up.”

He wavers for just a moment, his eyes on the horse as if weighing his options. But then, with a deep breath, he grabs the saddle and swings himself up with ease. He sits stiffly at first, his hands gripping the reins a bit too tightly, but he doesn’t look as uncomfortable as you would have expected. Definitely better than your first attempt.

“You’re doing great,” you reassure him, moving to stand beside the horse. “Just relax. The horse can sense if you’re tense, so try to loosen up a bit.”

He takes another breath, visibly trying to relax his posture. It’s clear that he’s out of his comfort zone, but he’s determined to push through. You walk him through the basics of steering and controlling the horse, keeping your tone calm and encouraging.

After a few minutes, you guide him around the paddock, walking alongside the horse to make sure he feels secure. Logan follows your instructions with serious concentration, his movements becoming more and more natural as he gets used to the rhythm of the horse’s steps.

“You’re doing really well,” you tell him, smiling up at him. “Want to try picking up the pace a little?”

He glances down at you warily at first, but then he nods. “Yeah. Let’s give it a shot.”

You guide him through a gentle trot, staying close enough to offer guidance but giving him enough space to figure things out on his own. The horse picks up speed, and you watch as he adjusts, his body moving in sync with the animal’s movements. There’s a moment when he looks down at you, a spark of surprise in his eyes as he realizes he’s actually getting the hang of it.

As the morning progresses, Logan becomes more comfortable in the saddle, his confidence growing with each passing minute. You spend the next hour practicing different techniques, guiding him through turns, stops, and even a slow canter. He’s a quick learner, and despite the initial awkwardness, you can tell he’s starting to enjoy himself.

Eventually, you lead him back to the paddock, bringing the horse to a stop. He dismounts, still a bit tense but clearly pleased with himself. He hands you the reins, his eyes meeting yours with a look that’s both grateful and slightly sheepish.

“Not bad for a first-timer,” you say with a grin, patting the horse’s neck.

He huffs a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well… you’re a good teacher.”

The compliment, simple as it is, makes your heart skip a beat. There’s something about the way he says it, the sincerity in his tone, that makes you feel a warm glow inside. He begins to walk toward the back shed, undoubtedly going to start on his morning chores, but you find yourself wanting to hold onto this moment just a bit longer. 

“Logan,” you call out, stopping him in his tracks.

He turns back, his eyes questioning.

“Thanks for this morning. I really enjoyed it.”

Logan studies you for a second, then he gives you a small smile. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Me too.”

—

The days come and go, blending into one another as your first month at the farm passes by in what feels like the blink of an eye. The sun seems to rise earlier and set later with each passing day, stretching the hours out in a way that makes everything feel both languid and endless, and the heat only intensifies, something you didn’t think was possible. 

Despite the longer days and rising temperatures, you and Logan’s daily routines have now intertwined in a way that feels as natural as breathing. The once solitary moments you spent watching him out with the horses have now become something shared. Every morning, without fail, the two of you meet by the barn, where the horses greet you with soft nickers and eager eyes, ready for their daily ride.

He’s improved a lot. He no longer looks uncomfortable or stiff, and he’s able to guide his horse with an ease that surprises even him. You can see the subtle shift in his posture, the way he holds the reins with a sureness that wasn’t there before. 

And just like when you work on the farm together, sometimes, the two of you ride in a comfortable silence—the only sounds being the soft snorts of the horses and the creak of leather saddles. But more often than not, you chat about everything and nothing, your conversations easy and unforced. 

Logan, who once spoke only in short, clipped sentences, has begun to open up more, sharing bits and pieces of his past, his thoughts, and his observations about life on the farm. You learn that he has a sarcastic, dry sense of humor, one that often catches you off guard and leaves you laughing in spite of yourself. He even joins you for your usual morning breakfast of eggs and toast, something that started only a few days into your new morning ritual. 

Yet throughout all of this, there’s a something growing between you and Logan, simmering just beneath the surface. 

It manifests in the little moments, the stolen glances, and the accidental touches that don’t really seem to be as accidental as you may think. It’s in the way his eyes follow you when he thinks you’re not looking, how they intensify when you laugh, or how he seems to fixate on your hands as you work, as if he’s memorizing every movement. 

You’re not immune to it either. You find yourself hyper-aware of his presence, the way his proximity seems to alter the air around you. In one afternoon, you’re in the barn, and sorting through a pile of hay bales. It’s hard, sweaty work, but the it’s kind that leaves you with a satisfying ache in your muscles by the end of the day. Logan is beside you, lifting the heavy bales with ease, his shirt sticking to his back, outlining the broad expanse of his shoulders. You catch yourself staring, and quickly look away, but not before he flicks his eyes over to yours.

He doesn’t say anything, but you can see it in his eyes. It’s like they’re telling you that he knows exactly what you were thinking, where you were staring. 

And when you’re both tending to the horses, something happens again. You’re brushing one down, your fingers working through its mane, when Logan comes to stand beside you, so close that you can smell his natural musk. 

“Here, let me help,” he says lowly, not waiting for a response as he reaches out, his hand covering yours. You glance up at him, and he’s already looking down at you. You’re acutely aware of the feel of his hand over yours, the callousness of his skin against your own, and the way his thumb brushes lightly over your knuckles as if testing the waters.

Another time, while fixing the fence out in the field, you’re both working in tandem, passing tools back and forth. At one point, you reach for a hammer at the same time Logan does, and your fingers brush against his. It’s a fleeting touch, but it feels like a spark in the summer heat, and for a heartbeat, you both freeze, caught in that split second of contact.

“Sorry,” you mumble, pulling your hand back, but the apology feels hollow in the face of what you’re actually feeling.

“No problem,” Logan replies, his voice gruffer than usual, as he hands you the tool. 

You can feel it. You’re not stupid. You know something is there, and you wonder how much longer you can resist it—how much longer you can pretend that everything is fine. But Logan is a hard man to read, and you’re not sure if what you’re feeling is reciprocated, or if it’s just wishful thinking on your part. So you stay silent, letting the tension simmer, hoping that one day, one of you will have the courage to break it.

—

You’re not the only who see’s it. 

“You know,” your grandmother says one afternoon, as you’re helping them with a puzzle. “Logan has really come out of his shell since you’ve been here.”

You blink, and glance over at her. “What do you mean?”

She looks up from the table, her eyes twinkling with a mischievous light. “Oh, you know exactly what I mean,” she says with a knowing smile. “He’s been here for over a year, and in all that time, we’ve never seen him quite like this. He’s always been polite, of course, but distant. Reserved. But now… well, it’s clear he’s become quite comfortable around you.”

Your grandfather places a piece in the board and nods in agreement. “She’s right, you know. Logan’s always been a bit of a mystery, keeps to himself mostly. But ever since you arrived, he’s been different. More… engaged, I suppose you could say.”

You feel a flush of heat rising to your cheeks, your heart skipping a beat at their words. “I-I don’t know about that,” you stammer, trying to brush it off. “We just… work together a lot. That’s all.”

Chuckling, your grandmother leans forward slightly. “Darling, don’t be modest. It’d be obvious to anyone that there’s something going on between the two of you. He’s practically a different man when he’s around you. Why, just the other day, I caught him actually smiling while you two were out riding. I nearly fainted!”

“You’ve managed to do in weeks what we couldn’t do in a year. Whatever it is, it’s good for him. And for you, too, I’d wager,” your grandfather pipes in, sending you a wink. 

Fidgeting with your hands, you feel like a deer caught in headlights, and you’re honestly not sure how to respond. “We’re… friends,” you say, though the words feel inadequate even as you say them. 

The woman across from you raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Hmm? Well, maybe so. But it seems to me that there’s potential for something more there, if you’re both willing to see it.”

“I… I don’t know,” you mumble, feeling flustered under their scrutiny. “He’s just… he’s a complicated person.”

“Everyone’s complicated, dear,” your grandfather says gently. “But that doesn’t mean they’re not worth the effort. Oftentimes, the best things in life are the ones that take the most time to understand.”

There’s a moment of silence as their words sink in, the weight of their observations leaving you feeling exposed and uncertain. You hadn’t fully allowed yourself to consider what you felt, let alone what Logan felt. But now, with your grandparents’ teasing remarks, it’s impossible to ignore the possibility that there might be something more between you and Logan than just a budding friendship.

Your grandmother reaches over and gives your hand a comforting squeeze. “Just take it one day at a time, sweetheart. Whatever happens, we’re here for you.”

—

The following week, you find yourself itching for something new—a change in scenery. While the farm has been everything you’ve wanted and more, you think it’d be nice to go on a drive, explore a small laketown you used to go to when you were younger. So, one morning, as you and Logan are unsaddling the horses, you muster the courage to extend an invitation that’s been on your mind for days.

“So…,” you begin, trying to keep your tone casual. “I was thinking… maybe we could take a break from the farm this weekend and go into town. You know, just to get out for a bit, see something different.”

He pauses in his work, his hand stilling on the brush as he peers over at you with a raised eyebrow. “The town?” he repeats, as if the idea is foreign to him.

“Yeah,” you say, turning to face him fully. “I need to pick up a few things, and I thought it might be nice to have some company. We could grab lunch, maybe do some exploring… It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. Just a change of pace.”

There’s a beat of silence as he considers your offer. His expression is guarded, as always, but you can see the wheels turning in his mind. It’s clear that the idea of leaving the farm, even for a day, is something he hasn’t done in a long time—if ever.

“I don’t know,” he eventually gets out, his tone uncertain. “Busy places are not really my thing.”

You feel a pang of disappointment at his hesitation, but you’re not ready to give up just yet. “I get that,” you say. “But it’s not about how many people are there, really. It’s about taking a break. You’ve been working so hard, and I think you deserve a day to relax. Plus, I could use your help carrying a few things,” you tease, hoping to coax him into agreeing.

Logan’s lips twitch as if he’s suppressing a smile, and for a split second you think he’s going to turn you down. But then he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Alright,” he says, the word coming out almost reluctantly. “I’ll go.”

You beam, unable to hide your enthusiasm. “We’ll leave early on Saturday, okay?”

“Saturday it is,” he confirms.

—

The rest of the week passes quickly, your anticipation for the trip into town growing with each passing day. You find yourself planning out the day in your head, imagining the places you might visit, the food you might try, and most of all, the chance to see Logan in a different environment—away from the farm and the routine that has defined your relationship so far.

So, when Saturday morning arrives, you’re up before the sun, too excited to sleep in. You dress in your favourite casual clothes—something comfortable but a bit more put-together than your usual farm attire—and head downstairs, where you find your grandparents surprisingly already up and about.

“Off to the city today, are you?” your grandmother asks with a smile as she hands you a thermos of coffee for the road.

“Yep,” you reply, unable to keep the grin off your face. “and I’m dragging Logan along with me.”

Your grandfather chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, that should be interesting. Don’t think he’s much of a city slicker.”

“Be patient with him, dear,” your grandmother adds, laughing. “He’s stepping out of his comfort zone for you.”

“I will,” you promise, taking the coffee and heading out the door.

Logan’s already waiting by the truck, and when you see him, you can’t help but falter in your steps. The shirt he’s wearing clings to his muscular frame in a way that draws your eyes, accentuating the strength that’s always been evident. His hair is slightly disheveled, and there’s an almost shy quality to the way he stands there, his hands shoved into his pockets as if he’s not quite sure what to do with them.

You try to hide the fact that you were just checking him out as you ask, “Ready?” 

“‘Course,” he replies, climbing into the passenger seat as you slide behind the wheel.

The highways are empty and the sky is clear. You chat easily about the things you need to pick up, the cute boutiques you want to visit, and even a few memories of the last time you visited the place. Logan listens more than he talks, but you can tell he’s starting to relax, the tightness in his shoulders easing as the distance passes by.

When you finally reach the town, the energy along the streets is a stark contrast to the quiet calm of the farm. The buildings tower above you, and the sidewalks are crowded with people going about their day. 

Stepping out of the truck, you glance over at Logan. It’s clear that he’s out of his element, but there’s something cute about the way he takes it all in. “Where to first?” He questions. 

“Well,” you say, smiling at him, “I was thinking we could grab some breakfast at this little café I know, then hit a few shops. There’s a bookstore I love that I think you’d like too.”

He nods, his expression softening slightly at the mention of a bookstore. “Lead the way.”

You spend the morning wandering around, exploring the shops, and enjoying a nice breakfast together. At the bookstore, you lose track of time, browsing through the shelves and picking out a few titles that catch your eye. Logan surprises you by finding a book on woodworking, something he’s always been interested in but never had much time for. You can see the way his eyes light up as he flips through the pages, and it makes you smile, happy to see him enjoying something for himself.

After spending a few more hours of exploring, you suggest one last stop before heading back—a lookout point that offers a stunning view of the lake and the surrounding landscape. Logan agrees, and you drive up to the spot, parking the truck and leading him to a bench that overlooks the water.

The view is breathtaking. You both sit in silence for a while, just taking in the scenery, allowing the peacefulness of the moment to wash over you. He is staring out into the water with a thoughtful expression when you decide to interrupt his stupor.

“Logan,” you begin, the gentle breeze from the lake rustling through the trees, “what did you think of me when we first met?”

He turns his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a hint of surprise, as if he wasn’t expecting the question. Then he pauses for a moment, looking back out at the lake, as if gathering his thoughts.

“I thought you were different,” he says slowly, each word carefully chosen. “You didn’t act like you were above the work. You jumped right in, got your hands dirty. Most people wouldn’t do that.”

You smile at the memory, remembering how you started working together the moment you met. After all, you weren’t just a visitor—you were there to help, and you knew your way around the farm. “And now?” you ask, your heart beginning to beat just a little faster.

He remains quiet for a few moments, his focus still on the water. When he finally speaks, he’s timid, almost bashful, as if he’s revealing something he’s kept hidden for a long time. 

“I think you’re beautiful,” he admits, his eyes flickering back to yours. “I thought that the first time I saw you, too. It was one of the first things that hit me. But it’s more than that. Now… now I think you’re perfect.”

The sincerity in his words catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. Your mouth parts in surprise, and all you can do is gawk, trying to process the depth of what he’s just said.

Logan shifts slightly, his gaze dropping to his hands as he continues. “I was… cold at first,” he murmurs, “Didn’t know how else to act. You weren’t like anyone I’d ever met. I didn’t know how to handle it. But what really got to me was how you didn’t shy away from that—you didn’t let my attitude push you away. That changed somethin’ in me.”

You want to say something—you should say something—to acknowledge what he just said, bearing in mind that was probably the most amount of words to come out of his mouth in one go, but for some reason, you can’t. The only thought running through your head is that you want to reach out and touch him, to close the small distance between you.

“What about you?” His voice is slightly more tentative now, and he definitely just asked that to fill the silence that you were ungraciously leaving. “What was your first impression of me?”

His question snaps you out of your thoughts, and you gulp, now knowing that your first impression of him was very different to his of you. 

“Honestly? I thought you were rude as hell,” you say a bit nervously, watching as his eyebrows raise slightly in surprise. “You were so gruff, so serious… I didn’t know what to make of you at first. But then I saw the way you took care of the horses, the way you looked after the farm, and… it didn’t take long for my opinion to change.”

He shifts, clearly caught off guard. You can see the faintest hint of a blush creeping up his neck as he takes in what you said, and it makes your smile widen. 

“And…You’re kind,” you continue. “There’s this gentleness about you that I wasn’t expecting.” You suck in a shaky breath. “I think you’re pretty perfect now too, if I’m being honest.”

The tint on his cheeks only deepens, and he looks away, flustered. It’s a rare sight—seeing him like this—and it makes you swoon. 

“I don’t know about that…” He mutters, a small, embarrassed smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“I do,” you reply firmly. “You’re more than you think you are, Logan.”

The genuineness in your words makes him look back at you, his eyes searching yours for something—reassurance, maybe, or confirmation that what you’re saying is real. Slowly, almost unconsciously, you both lean in closer, locked in a stare, your breaths mingling as the space between you shrinks. You can see the way his eyes flicker down to your lips, and you feel the same pull, the undeniable urge to close the distance and see what it would feel like to kiss him overriding all your senses.

Your chest pounds as you inch closer, until you can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. But just as your lips are about to meet, a loud, piercing scream shatters the moment.

You both jerk back, startled, and whip your heads around to see a kid nearby, his face scrunched up in disgust as he frantically wipes at his shoulder. “Ew! A seagull just pooped on me!”

The kid’s parents rush over, trying to console him as they pull out napkins, and you can’t help but burst out laughing at the absurdity of the interruption. The sound of your laughter is contagious, and soon Logan is chuckling a bit too.

“Well, that’s one way to kill the mood,” he mumbles under is breath.

You’re still laughing, the remnants of your almost-kiss still in the back of your mind, but you know the moment has passed. “Yeah,” you agree, trying to catch your breath. “Guess we should be thankful it wasn’t us.”

Logan grins, warm and wide. “Yeah, maybe we should.”

—

Driving back to the farm, neither of you say a word about what almost transpired at the lookout point, and you’re fine with that. There’s no need to fill the silence with words, no need to dissect the moment or what it could have led to. You don’t want there to be any sort of pressure between you, any expectations. Even if, deep down, all you want is to climb him like a tree, to feel the solid strength of him beneath your hands, and to finally give in to the attraction that’s been building throughout your time together. 

Pulling into the driveway and shutting of the engine, you turn to him, and turns to you, his eyes meeting yours. “Thanks for today,” he says sincerely “I… liked it.”

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. “Me too,” you reply, your voice just as soft. “We should do it again sometime.”

“Yeah,” Logan agrees, his gaze holding yours a hint longer before he turns away, his hand reaching for the door handle. “We should.”

—

A few days later, as everyone sits around the kitchen table after dinner, the evening suddenly takes on a new tone when your grandmother clears her throat and shoots an exchanges a conspiratorial glance at your grandfather.

“We’ve got some news,” she begins, her eyes shining with excitement. “Your grandfather and I have been invited to spend a week at the Summers’ cottage by the lake.”

You smile, genuinely happy for them. The Summers are longtime friends of your grandparents, and the idea of them getting a little vacation away sounds perfect. “That sounds wonderful! You two deserve some time to relax.”

“Well, we thought so too,” your grandfather says. “But that means we’ll be leaving the farm in your capable hands.”

It takes a moment for the full meaning of his words to sink in. You and Logan… alone… for an entire week.

Your heart skips a beat and you glimpse over at Logan, who’s sitting across the table from you, his expression neutral as he listens to your grandparents. But there’s a quick flash of something that suggests he’s as aware of the situation as you are.

A voice brings you back to the moment. “Now, don’t worry,” she says with a reassuring smile. “There’s not much that needs doing, just the usual stuff. And we’ll be back before you know it.”

Your grandfather leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he scans between you and Logan. “We trust you both to keep everything running smoothly,” he says, before he drops his voice to an embarrassingly low tone. “And to keep an eye on each other.”

You can’t help but blush at his not-so-subtle innuendo, and you quickly drop your gaze to your hands, trying to hide the warmth creeping up your cheeks. The thought of spending an entire week alone with Logan is both thrilling and nerve-wracking. The lack of a buffer—your grandparents—means that literally anything could happen. 

“Don’t worry,” you finally manage to say. “We’ve got this. You two just enjoy your time away.”

Logan, who has been uncharacteristically quiet during the conversation, finally speaks up. “Yeah,” he agrees, “We’ll take care of everything.”

—

Over the next couple of days, your grandparents pack their bags and make sure everything is in order before they leave. You help them with the small details, ensuring that the house is stocked with food and that all the usual chores are delegated properly.

Finally, the morning of their departure arrives. You stand by the front door, watching as your grandparents load their bags into the car. Your grandmother gives you a warm hug, “Take care, dear,” she says, kissing your cheek before hopping into the passenger’s seat. 

Your grandfather shakes Logan’s hand, giving him a firm nod. “Take care of things.”

He hums. “I will. Enjoy yourselves.”

With that, your grandparents climb into the car, and after a final wave, they drive down the long, dusty road that leads away from the farm. 

There’s a pause. 

Suddenly, you’ve become extremely aware of how close you two are standing. 

“So,” you start, hoping to ease a bit of the electricity beginning to spark. “I guess it’s just us now.”

Logan swallows thickly, his adams apple bobbing up and down. “Yeah,” he replies a bit deeper than usual. “Just us.”

“What should we do first?” you ask as casually as possible. 

He shrugs slightly, his lips curving into the faintest hint of a smile. “Same old, I guess. Can’t let everythin’ fall apart right when they leave..”

“True. Let’s start with that.”

The two of you move into that familiar routine of farm work. Mucking out the stalls, hauling bags of feed from the shed to the barn, tending to the vegetable garden, you do it all. But even though you’re busy with work, there’s an underlying jitter to everything you do, a heightened awareness of each other’s presence that just wasn’t there before. And it’s impossible to ignore. Each time you make eyecontact it feels charged, almost like a promise of what’s to come, and it has your heart racing with exhilaration. 

That evening, after the chores are done and the sun has dropped below the horizon, you’re in the kitchen, preparing dinner while Logan finishes up outside. The quiet of the farmhouse feels different without your grandparents there—emptier, yet somehow more intimate. Domestic. You can hear the soft creak of the floorboards as he enters the house, the sound of him washing up in the sink.

And as the evening wears on, you find yourself drawing out cleaning the dishes, not wanting to end the day just yet. Logan stays close, drying the plates and placing them back in the cupboards.

“Long day,” he grunts.

“Yeah,” you agree, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “But it was nice. Peaceful.”

His eyes find yours. “Peaceful,” he echoes, though the word seems to hold a different meaning when he says it.

You both stay there, unmoving, until eventually, he takes a step back, as if sensing that the tension between you needs a moment to cool. “I’ll check on the barn,” he says gruffly. “Make sure everything’s locked up for the night.”

“Okay,” you reply, your voice softer than you intended.

Logan leaves to check on the barn, while he’s gone, your thoughts are a whirlwind of anticipation and nervous energy as you busy yourself with finishing up the remaining utensils. 

Finally, unable to stay inside any longer, you decide to step outside, hoping the cool evening air will help clear your mind. You sink down onto the old porch swing, and pull your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them as you observe the darkened landscape.

A few minutes later, you hear the soft crunch of gravel underfoot, and you glance over your shoulder to see Logan approaching the porch. He walks up the steps and pauses momentarily as if debating whether to join you. Then, with a soft sigh, he settles down beside you, his shoulder just barely brushing against yours.

It’s now or never, you think.  “We have the place to ourselves now,” you state. 

He turns his head slightly, giving you a sidelong look, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a small, knowing smirk. “Indeed we do,” he replies.

The simple acknowledgment—and the way he says it—makes your pulse quicken, and you can’t help the small huff of exasperation that escapes your lips. He’s always been so tame, so careful with his words, and while you appreciate the way he’s respected your space, you’re done with tiptoeing around.

“Do I need to spell it out for you, or—” But before you can finish the sentence, Logan moves. 

His hand reaches out, rough and warm, to cup the back of your head. Your eyes widen, and your heart thuds in your chest upon realizing what’s about to happen. And with a firm but gentle pull, he closes the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours.

You lose track of your surroundings—the night, the farm, everything—as you give yourself into feel of his lips against yours. It’s intense and claiming, a declaration of everything you’ve both been too afraid to say.

His hand tangles in your hair, holding you close as he deepens the kiss, his other hand coming to rest on your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his shirt as if to ground yourself in the moment, to make sure this is real, that he’s really here, kissing you.

Moving your lips against his with equal fervor, you pour the longing you’ve been feeling all this time into it. The taste of him is intoxicating. It’s something that’s so uniquely him—so uniquely Logan—and you can’t get enough. You’ve imagined this moment in the dead of night, but nothing compares to the reality of it—to the way he kisses you like you’re the only thing that matters.

When you finally pull back, out of breath and a little dazed, Logan’s forehead rests against yours, his breath coming in heavy, uneven pants. His eyes are smoldering and intense and his smirk is gone, replaced by a deep look of yearning.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he admits huskily. The way his voice has dropped three octaves isn’t missed on you. You can practically feel it vibrate down in your pu—

“You’re not the only one,” You whisper, interrupting your own thoughts. The connection between you has finally been acknowledged, and you feel a huge sense of relief.

He exhales a breath you didn’t realize he was holding, and his hand slips from the back of your head to cup your face, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. “Good,” he murmurs. “Because I don’t think I can hold back anymore.”

You lean in, pressing another kiss to his lips. “Then don’t,” you whisper against his mouth.

The spark that has been ignited between you flares up into a full blown fire, and the next kiss quickly becomes more heated. Without breaking it, Logan’s grip on your waist tightens and you let out a soft gasp as he effortlessly lifts you onto his lap. Your legs straddle his hips, and you can feel the beginning of something growing underneath you. 

The sensation is dizzying, and you instinctively press yourself closer, your fingers curling into his hair. The swing beneath you creaks softly with the movement, but neither of you pays it any mind, too lost in each other to care.

You shift slightly on his lap, grinding your hips against him, and the movement draws a deep, throaty groan from him. He pulls back just enough to catch his breath, “God, you drive me crazy,” and then he’s on you again. 

It’s wild. Hot, and heavy, and utterly consuming. His hands move from your hips to grip your ass, guiding you to move against him. It feels so good, you release a relieved sigh into his mouth, before dropping your head onto his shoulder, too caught up in the pleasure. 

The sounds of your moans fill the air as he continues grinding you against him, his own hips bucking up into your core. 

Biting your lip, you lift your head slightly, a teasing smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as your eyes dart toward the open door of the farmhouse. “You know,” you begin tilting forward to bite his ear, your voice low and playful, “as much as I’m enjoying being out here, I think we should take this inside.”

Logan’s lips quirk up into a sexy smirk. “As you wish,” he murmurs.

As you stand up, your legs a little shaky from what just occured, you peek back at him, and see that he’s already risen to his feet. Stepping closer, you slip your hand into his as you guide him toward the door. But just as you reach the threshold, a thought crosses your mind, and you pause, turning to look up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“We gotta go to your room,” you say, running your hands up and down his arms, feeling them flex underneath your touch.“I don’t think I’m ready to defile my childhood bedroom just yet.”

He raises an eyebrow, a grin spreading across his face as he catches on to what you’re implying. “Oh, is that so?” he asks, his tone filled with mock seriousness. You wink in return. grabbing one of his hands and dragging him inside. 

By the time you reach his door, you’re practically vibrating with excitement, your breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. The room is simple, and the bed, neatly made, sits in the center of the room. You can’t help but laugh at the thought of how different it will look in just a few moments.

You turn to face Logan, but he doesn’t give you time to say anything, his hand reaching out, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a touch that is both tender and possessive. His thumb traces the line of your jaw as he cups your face, his eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation.

But there’s none. You’ve never been more sure of anything in your life. The need for him, for this, is so overwhelming that it’s taking every ounce of strength in you to keep from throwing yourself onto him. 

His lips find yours once more, this time more urgent, more demanding than before. He pulls you closer, his body pressing against yours. “Are you sure about this?” he asks in between kisses.

“Absolutely,” you mumble breathlessly, your hands sliding up his chest to curl around the back of his neck. The word barely leaves your lips before Logan reacts, a low hum rumbling in his chest as if your answer has unleashed something primal within him.

He kicks the door shut behind him with a force that makes the room tremble slightly, and in the same fluid motion, he pins you against the wall, lips never leaving yours as his body cages you in.

One of his thighs nudges its way between yours, the rough fabric of his jeans brushing against the sensitive spot between your legs. The friction is maddening, electric, and it hits just right, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine that rips a moan from your throat.

The sound only spurs Logan on, his own need evident in the way he moves against you. He moves his mouth to your neck, trailing up and down it with hungrily. The feel of his mouth on your skin, the way his teeth graze your pulse point, causes you to arch against him, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support.

You can feel the warmth of his breath as he presses his lips to the sensitive spot just below your ear, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin, as his hands explore your body. They’re everywhere—one gripping your hip, holding you steady against the wall, the other sliding up your side to brush against the curve of your breast. His fingers find the hem of your shirt, tugging it up, and you lift your arms to help him, the fabric sliding up and over your head before it’s tossed carelessly to the floor.

Bringing his lips back to yours, the kiss is fiery, stealing all the oxygen from your lungs as he pushes you even harder into against the wall, his thigh still working its magic. You can’t help the way your hips rock against him, the need for more—more pressure, more friction, more him.

Logan seems to sense your desperation, moaning when his hand slips down from your breast to the waistband of your jeans. He fumbles with the button for only a moment before he gets it open, his fingers slipping inside to brush against the soft skin of your lower belly. He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze tempting and filled with a desire that matches your own. 

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he mutters, voice thick with want. “No idea why I waited so long.”

You can barely think, let alone form words, but you manage to breathe out, “Don’t need to wait any longer.”

The words seem to be all the encouragement he needs. In one swift motion, he slides your pants and underwear down your legs, his hands careful as he helps you step out of them. You’re left standing before him, bare and vulnerable, but the way he’s staring at you—like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen—makes you feel powerful, desired in a way you’ve never felt before.

He pulls you back into him, and this time, you can feel the hardness of his own desire against yours—bare— and it drives you insane. His grip finds you thighs as he lifts you off the ground and carries you the short distance to the bed. He lays you down gently on his bed, and breaks away long enough to strip off his own clothes. The sight of him—strong, muscular, yours—makes your breath catch in your throat. 

There’s a moment where he’s standing above you, just staring, his chest rising and falling with the effort to control himself. But then he’s on you again in an instant, his body pressing yours into the mattress, his lips claiming yours and leaving you dizzy.

You lean up into him, your hands sliding up his back, feeling the play of muscles beneath his skin as he moves against you. The need for more builds up to a breaking point, and you can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips as he grinds into you, hard and insistent against your core.

“Logan,” you breathe out. “Please.”

His name on your lips seems to break the last of his control, a desperate groan ripping out of him. He begins travelling down your body, taking his time, his lips tracing a slow, deliberate path, each kiss leaving a burning trail in its wake. His hands follow the curve of your waist, your hips, his fingers digging into your skin with just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp. Your body is practically begging for him, and you know that you’re on the verge of begging too.

Once he makes it down to your thighs, he nudges them apart, giving him better access to you. He nips and bites at them, moaning along with you. And then, with a deep, almost possessive growl, he finally lowers his mouth to you, his tongue flicking out to taste you. You react immediately, a wave of pleasure coming over you, your hands fly into his hair, tugging at the strands as you try to pull him closer.

Logan’s hands tightening their grip on your thighs as he delves deeper. You’re lost in the sensations, the pleasure growing and growing until it’s all you can think about, all you can feel. Your body is on fire, every nerve ending alight with desire, and the only thing that matters is the way he is making you feel, the way he’s driving you toward a release that you know will be earth-shattering.

And then, just as you think you can’t take any more, he pulls back slightly, his lips still hovering over you as he looks up at you, eyes black. “Tell me what you want,” he commands.

You can barely think, let alone form coherent words, but you manage to breathe out, “You. I want–I need you.”

That seems to be wanted he wanted to hear, so with a final kiss to your inner thigh, he moves back up your body, connecting his lips to yours again. You can taste yourself on his tongue as his hands slide under your thighs, lifting you slightly to position himself at your entrance.

The anticipation is almost too much, the need for him so immense that you can’t hold back the whimper that escapes your lips as begins to push, the tip of him just barely inside you, teasing, testing your patience.

“Oh god,” you moan. “I need you. Please.”

And then, finally, Logan gives you what you’ve been wanting since that time at the pond. With one slow, deliberate thrust, he pushes inside you, filling you up completely. 

Everything seems to stop for a moment, the only sound the ragged gasps of breath between you, the only feeling the overwhelming pleasure of being joined together like this, of finally having what you’ve both wanted for so long.

He pauses, lowering his head in the crook of your neck as he lets you adjust to the feeling, his breath hot and heavy against your collarbone. And then he begins to move, slow and steady at first, each thrust driving you closer to the edge, the coil inside you tightening with every stroke. The feel of him inside you, the way he moves against you, is everything you’ve been dreaming of and more, and you can’t help the way your body responds to him, your hips lifting to meet his every movement.

The gentle, deliberate pace soon gives way to something more urgent, more desperate, as the need for release takes over. Each thrust drives you higher, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable level, until teetering on the edge.

And then, he sends you over it. The orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your entire body shuddering with the intensity of it, your voice lost in the cry of pure ecstasy that escapes your lips. Logan follows you a moment later, his own release crashing into him hard, his body trembling against yours as he buries himself deep inside you, his breath hot and ragged against your neck as a loud, deep, groan reverberates in his throat. 

Neither of you can move, lost in the aftermath of your shared pleasure, your bodies still entwined, as you come down from the high. He tightens his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your temple as he tries to catch his breath. And when he does, he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes.

“You okay?” he murmurs. 

You nod, reaching up to cup his face in your hands, your thumbs gently brushing over the rough stubble on his cheeks. “I’m more than okay,” you whisper back, voice full of emotion. “That was… everything.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of Logan’s lips, and he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, his arms still wrapped securely around you. “Yeah, it was,” he agrees.

Eventually, he eases out of you with a tenderness that makes you sigh softly. He walks out into the washroom, and gets a warm towel, wiping you and himself down. After, he settles beside you on the bed, his arm draped over your waist, holding you close. The two of you stay like that for a long time, wrapped in each other’s arms, until the exhaustion of the day begins to catch up with you, and you feel your eyes growing heavy.

“Get some rest,” you hear, “We’ve got plenty of time… no need to rush.”

You nod sleepily, snuggling closer to him as you let your eyes drift shut, the steady pulse of his heart lulling you into a peaceful sleep. 

—

You wake to the feeling of warmth and security, Logan’s breathing against your ear, his arm still clinging possessively over your waist. The events of the previous night come rushing back, and a satisfied smile curves your lips as you snuggle closer to him.

But it isn’t long before that peaceful contentment becomes something more. As you move around, the feel of his skin against yours, the warmth of his breath on your neck, and the memory of the passion ignites a familiar heat low in your belly

He stirs beside you, his hand tightening around your waist as if sensing your thoughts. Pulling you closer, his nose nuzzles against your neck, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin there. 

His voice is rough with sleep as he murmurs against your skin, “Morning…”

The simple word, spoken in that deep, gravelly tone, is enough to make you ache for him all over again. You turn in his arms, meeting his gaze, and the look in his eyes—dark and hungry—tells you that he feels the same way. 

The morning starts in the best way possible, the both of you breathless, spent, and with the knowledge that this isn’t a one-time thing. The connection between you is too strong, too consuming to be satisfied with just one night or even one morning. And as the day stretches out before you, the realization hits that this hunger, this need, will follow you both everywhere you go.

Throughout the week, the two of you are completely insatiable for each other. It’s like the floodgates have opened and have no intention of closing. Every moment you’re together becomes an opportunity. 

It starts innocently enough—just a kiss in the barn when you’re supposed to be checking on the horses. But that kiss quickly spirals and before you know it, Logan has you pressed up against the wooden wall, his lips on your neck, his hands roaming your body. The scent of hay and leather mixes with the heady scent of him as he takes you right there, the barn filled with the sound of your moans and the creak of the old wooden beams.

Or when you’re in the back shed, ostensibly looking for some tools to finish up some chores, the moment the door closes behind you, and you both know there’s no point in pretending. Logan’s hands are on you before you can even say a word, lifting you onto the workbench with ease as he claims your lips in a searing kiss. 

At the pond too, the tranquil, secluded spot now holds an entirely different kind of allure to what it had before. One afternoon, you find yourselves there again, the cool water calling your name. But as you strip down to swim, the sight of him watching you is enough to make it seem less inviting than the feel of his hands on your skin. You pull him in with you, the rippling water doing nothing to muffle the sounds of your shared pleasure.

By the end of the week, you’re exhausted but in the best possible way, your body and soul both filled with the kind of satisfaction that comes from truly giving in to what you want, to who you are together. And as the sun sets on the final day of your week alone together, you find yourselves back in Logan’s room, the place where it all began. 

The bed, once neat and tidy, is now a tangle of sheets and pillows, the evidence of your shared moments of bliss scattered around the room. Logan lies beside you, his hand gently stroking your hair as you rest your head on his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

“This week… it’s been more than I ever expected,” he admits quietly, his fingers brushing gently over your skin. “I don’t want it to end.”

You lift your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his, and you can see the same emotion reflected there—the same desire to hold on to what you’ve found together. “It doesn’t have to,” you reply. “We don’t have to go back to the way things were before.”

Logan’s hand tightens around yours, a small, almost imperceptible smile curving his lips. “No, we don’t,” he concurs. 

—

The morning your grandparents arrive, you and Logan are in the kitchen, finishing up lunch. Your grandmother is the first to step through the door, her face lighting up as she sees the two of you. “We’re back!” she announces, her voice cheerful as she sets her bag down by the door.

You rise to greet her, giving her a warm hug. “How was the trip?”

“Oh, it was lovely,” she replies, her eyes twinkling as she pulls back to look at you. “The cottage was just as beautiful as ever. And the Summers send their love.”

Your grandfather enters next, a gleeful smile on his face as he takes in the sight of you and Logan in the kitchen, together. “Everything go smoothly while we were gone?” he asks.

You blush. “Yes, everything was fine.”

Then they do that thing they’ve been doing the whole time you’ve been with them, where they exchange a glance—and share a look that speaks volumes. It’s the kind of look that only comes from years of understanding each other without words, and you can tell they knew exactly what they were doing when they left you and Logan alone for the week. 

“Well, that’s good to hear,” your grandmother says with a mischievous smile, her eyes flicking between you two in a way that makes you wonder just how much they’ve guessed.

“Seems like you two managed just fine without us.” Your grandfather says, patting Logan on the shoulder. 

You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and you steal a look at Logan, who meets your eyes with a small smirk. It’s a way to tell you that he’s just as aware as you are of what your grandparents are thinking. But there’s no embarrassment on his face, only a quiet confidence, a certainty that whatever happened between you was exactly what was meant to be.

—

The next month flies by, the routine of everything staying largely the same except for one thing. You and Logan are inseparable, drawn to each other like magnets, and with each passing day, it seems like that attraction only grows stronger. 

It’s not just the passion that binds you, though that spark is always there, and most often times doesn’t go ignored. It’s the little moments that fill your days—the way his hand brushes yours as you walk side by side, the way he rests a gentle hand on the small of your back when you’re working together in the barn, or the way his fingers grip your waist as he helps you mount your horse (even though you don’t need it). 

The work on the farm continues to get done, but there’s a new layer to everything you do—a sense of shared purpose, of partnership. And even though the days are long and tiring, you find yourself looking forward to each task, knowing that Logan will be there beside you, sharing the load, offering his quiet support and his easy, comforting presence.

As the sun begins to rise one breakfast, you grandfather announces that he needs to run into town to pick up some tools for a repair project. He’s heading out the door, and as he grabs his keys from the hook, he turns to Logan with a nod.

“Logan, why don’t you come along? Could use an extra pair of hands,” he suggests, his tone casual.

Your man agrees without hesitation, always ready to lend a hand. But as he follows your grandfather out the door, he pauses for just a moment, whirling back to look at you, and what you see on his face is insane—there’s a deep yearning, a longing that tugs on your heartstrings. It’s almost as if to say that he wishes he could stay, he doesn’t want to be apart from you, even for the short trip into town. 

You have half a mind to join them. 

The intensity of that look lingers in the air long after he’s turned away and stepped out the door, and your grandmother doesn’t miss a thing. Once the men are in the truck and begin to drive off the property, she turns to you with a teasing smile, one eyebrow raised in amusment. 

“He’s really got it bad for you, doesn’t he?” she says affectionately. “I’ve never seen a man look at a woman the way he looks at you.”

Your heart blooms in your chest. “I guess he does,” you reply, your voice soft,  breathless as the weight of your feelings for him wash over you. 

Your grandmother chuckles, stepping closer to place her hand on your arm “And you’ve got it bad for him too, I’d say.”

You laugh. “Yeah, I do.”

—

Several weeks later, it’s raining. That should have been the first sign that this day wasn’t going to go to plan. You’re sitting inside, curled up next to Logan on the old chesterfield, his arm wrapped around you as you both enjoy the warmth and quiet of the afternoon. 

But then you decide to go through some emails—just a quick check, nothing more, to clear out any lingering notifications. You unlock your phone and start scrolling through your inbox, Logan’s fingers tracing lazy circles on your shoulder as you do. Most of the emails are routine—newsletters, updates, the usual clutter—but then you see it, nestled among the others like a tiny, unexpected bombshell.

It’s an email from the company you applied to months ago, the one you almost forgot about in the blissful haze of farm life. The subject line makes your heart skip a beat: Congratulations! Offer of Employment.

Your breath catches, and you sit up a little straighter, your heart pounding in your chest as you open the email. The words leap off the screen: We are pleased to offer you the position, starting in two months.

You stare at the email, a mixture of shock and elation washing over you. This is it—your dream job, the opportunity you’ve been working toward for years. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted, the kind of position that could set the course for your entire career. But as the initial wave of excitement begins to ebb, a heavy weight settles in your chest, pulling you back down to earth.

You glance over at Logan, who’s still relaxed beside you. His eyes are closed, his head resting back against the couch. The sight of him, so content, makes your heart ache, because with this job offer comes a harsh reality: accepting it means leaving him, leaving this life you’ve built together, at least for a while. And you don’t know when—or even if—you’ll be back.

Suddenly, his eyes flutter open in response to your shifting, and he looks over at you, concern flickering across his features. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. “I… I just got an email,” you begin shakily as you turn the screen toward him so he can read it for himself.

He takes the phone from your hand, his eyes scanning the email. You watch his expression carefully, searching for any sign of what he’s feeling. At first, there’s no reaction, just the steady, focused way he reads the words. Yet as he reaches the end, you see it—the subtle tightening of his jaw, the pinching together of his eyebrows. 

He hands the phone back to you wordlessly.

Then, “This is what you’ve been waiting for.” His voice is steady, but there’s a sadness there too, a heaviness that you can’t ignore.

You nod, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “Yeah… it is.”

There’s a long stretch of nothing, the sound of the rain outside filling the silence between you. Logan looks away, his gaze fixed on the fire as if trying to find the right words. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, measured. “You have to take it.”

You swallow hard. “But what about us? I don’t know when I’ll be back… or if I’ll even be able to come back.”

Logan’s hand tightens around yours, his grip firm, grounding. “We’ll figure it out,” he says, though you can hear the strain in his voice, the way he’s trying to hold back his own emotions for your sake. “You’ve worked too hard for this to pass it up.”

His words are supportive, encouraging, but you can see the the way he’s starting to close in on himself, as if already bracing himself for your departure. The thought of being apart from him is unbearable.

You lean into his touch, your head resting on his shoulder, and he wraps his arms around you, holding you close. “I don’t want to leave you,” you whisper as the tears finally spill over.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there as if trying to convey all the things he can’t bring himself to say. “I don’t want you to leave either,” he admits. “But I’ll be here when you get back. However long it takes.”

And so begins the countdown to your departure. You always knew it was going to come, always knew you were going to have to leave your grandparents again, but you didn’t expect to find the love of your life here, and that makes it so much harder.

—

The remaining two months become a bittersweet blend of cherished moments and a looming sense of inevitability. Each day feels both precious and fleeting, a constant reminder that your time together is running out, and it shapes every decision, every action, every word between you. 

In the past, your days had been filled with the rhythm of farm life—early mornings, long hours of work, and evenings spent in each other’s arms, exhausted but content. But now, there’s a conscious effort to carve out time just for you two, time that’s not dictated by chores or routine. You start taking more trips to the pond or into town, something you hadn’t quite as often before. 

These dates are different from the intense, passionate moments you’ve shared on the farm—they’re softer, more tender, as if you’re both trying to imprint each other’s presence into your memories. You hold hands as you walk on the streets, your fingers intertwined, and every now and then, Logan will pull you close, pressing a kiss to your temple or your lips, as if he needs to reassure himself that you’re still there with him.

Even the way you make love changes during these months. The hunger and desire that had once defined your physical relationship are still there, of course—Logan’s touch still ignites a fire in you, and the need for each other still burns as hot as ever—but now, there’s a new dimension to your intimacy, a slow, sensual depth that hadn’t been there before. 

Your grandparents, upon hearing the news, immediately noticed the change too. While they were so extremely happy for your new job opportunity, they also knew what it meant. They’ve seen the way you and Logan have grown closer, the way your connection has deepened, and there’s a quiet sadness in their eyes whenever they see you together. 

It’s not a sadness for themselves, but for the both of you. 

They don’t say much, but their understanding is palpable. They seem to give you more grace when it comes to doing work around the farm, trying to volunteer and do as much as they can so you two can spend time alone. No matter how much you refuse, they insist, pushing you two out the door with picnic basket and blankets. 

Sitting on the porch one evening after a long day, your grandmother comes out to join you. She sits beside you, Logan’s arm is draped around your shoulders, and for a brief second, the three of you just sit in silence, watching the sunset.

“You know,” your grandmother begins, her voice soft and filled with emotion, “I see the way you two look at each other. It reminds me of your grandfather and me when we were young.”

You smile, leaning into Logan’s side as you listen to her. “You two have always been such an inspiration,” you say, meaning every word.

She chuckles, a wistful sound. “It wasn’t always easy, you know. There were times when we had to be apart, times when I wasn’t sure if we’d make it through. But we did. And looking at you two now… I know you’ll find a way.”

Logan squeezes your shoulder gently.. “We’ll figure it out,” he says, echoing the promise he made when you first told him about the job.

Your grandmother nods, reaching out to pat your knee. “I believe you will. But just know… it’s okay to be sad, to be scared. That’s part of loving someone.”

The words resonate with you, and you feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “Thank you,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion.

She smiles, a small, sad smile that holds a lifetime of wisdom. “You’ll be alright, my dear. Both of you.”

The days continue to slip by, and as the final weeks approach, your chest constantly feels tight. You try to make yourself feel better by lying in each other’s arms at night, whispering about the future, about the dreams you have, and the plans you’ll make when you’re together again. But still, it’s sad. 

—

Your last day creeps up on you like a shadow at dusk—inevitable, inescapable, and suddenly there, looming over everything. You wake up with a rock on your heart, the realization that this is it—your final day on the farm, your last full day with Logan before everything changes.

He is still asleep beside you, holding you close, his face peaceful in the early morning quiet. For a moment, you just watch him, memorizing the lines of his face, the way his chest rises and falls with each breath, the way his hair falls across his forehead. You want to remember everything, to carry this image of him with you when you leave.

With a soft sigh, you carefully slip out of his embrace, trying not to wake him. You pad quietly to the window, staring out at the familiar landscape that has become so dear to you. The fields, the barn, the trees swaying gently in the breeze—it’s all so beautiful, so full of memories.

You don’t realize you’re crying until you feel the wetness on your cheeks, and you quickly wipe the tears away, not wanting to start the day with sadness. But as you turn back to the bed, you see that Logan is awake, his eyes open and watching you. He doesn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes says it all—he knows what today means, and he feels it just as deeply as you do.

Wordlessly, you crawl back into bed, curling up against him, and you can feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek, grounding you in the moment.

“Morning,” he murmurs.

“Morning,” you whisper back, your voice trembling slightly as you press your face into his chest, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to fall..

You just lie there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of the day pressing down on you both. Eventually, Logan pulls back slightly, his hand cupping your face as he looks into your eyes. “Let’s go to the pond,” he says delicately. “Just you and me.”

You nod, unable to find the words to respond. The pond has always been your special place, a sanctuary where you’ve shared so many intimate moments, where it feels like it all began, and so it’s only right that would spend your last day there, away from everything else, just the two of you.

You decide to walk to the pond. Logan’s hand is warm and solid in yours, and you hold on to it tightly, physically unable to tear yourself from his touch. And when you reach it, a fresh wave of emotion crashes over you. 

You and Logan stand at the water’s edge, just staring out into the pond. Then, you turn to him, your eyes filled with tears, and without hesitation, he pulls you into his arms, holding you close.

The kiss that follows is desperate, full of the need to feel connected, to hold on to each other for as long as you can. It’s not like the slow, sensual lovemaking of the past weeks—this is something desperate. Stumbling back toward the soft grass by the water’s edge, Logan gently lays you down, his hands trembling slightly as he undresses you, tears stinging behind his eyelids. As he moves over you, his body pressing against yours, there’s only this moment. 

With his skin against yours, his breath on your neck, your bodies move together. Tears spill from your eyes as you hold him tight, your hands unable to stay still, running over every part of him you can touch, needing to feel him, to anchor yourself. His lips find yours again, and the kiss is deep, full of all the love, all the emotion that neither of you can put into words. 

It’s a kiss that says goodbye, that says I love you, that says I’ll wait for you.

After reaching the peak of pleasure, you cling to each other, the tears flowing freely now, a mix of sorrow and love and everything in between.

Logan holds you close, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath ragged, his eyes wet with tears. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice cracking with emotion. “I’ll always love you.”

“I love you too,” you choke out. “More than anything.”

—

Driving away from the farm was probably the hardest thing you've ever had to do in your entire life. Harder than moving away for university, harder than securing your first full-time job, harder than living alone in a city where you knew no one. This was different—this was leaving behind a piece of your heart, a part of your soul that you knew would never be whole until you returned.

Your hands grip the steering wheel tightly, your knuckles white as you try to focus on the road ahead, but it’s impossible to shake the image that’s burned into your mind—the image of Logan and your grandparents standing on the porch as you drove away. The sight of them, standing there side by side, watching you leave, is something that will haunt you for a long time. 

Logan, his stoic expression barely masking the pain in his eyes, his hands clenched at his sides as if holding himself back from running after you. Your grandmother, her face a mixture of sadness and pride, eyes glistening with unshed tears. And your grandfather, standing tall and strong, but with a heaviness in his gaze that spoke of understanding, of experience, of knowing just how hard this had to be.

The tears that had been threatening to fall finally break free, streaming down your face as you drive, blurring your vision and making it hard to see the road ahead. You swipe at them angrily, frustrated with yourself for breaking down like this, but it’s no use. The emotions are too strong, too overwhelming, and soon you’re bawling your eyes out, the sound of your own crying filling the car. 

You can barely catch your breath, each sob wracking your body with a force that leaves you feeling drained, exhausted, and utterly broken.

—

The time apart is worse than you ever imagined it would be. In the beginning, you and Logan make every effort to stay in touch. The calls and texts are your lifeline, little threads that keep you connected to the farm, to him, to the life you left behind. 

At first, you talk every day. his voice a comfort, a reminder that you’re not alone, that he’s still there, waiting for you. He tells you about his days, about how he still rides the horses every morning, just like he used to when you were there. 

But as time goes on, the time between each call grows. Your demanding work schedule, and the unreliable service in the countryside, make it harder and harder to find moments when you’re both free to talk. The texts, once long and filled with details about your lives, become shorter, more practical. You try to stay connected, but the distance feels like a growing chasm between you, one that neither of you can quite figure out how to bridge.

Years pass by in a blur. You have no time to spend at the farm, with it being too far away for just a weekend trip, and other commitments seem to always get in the way. 

Then, one day, the call comes—the call you’ve dreaded but somehow always knew would happen. It’s your grandmother, her voice trembling as she tells you that your grandfather has passed away. 

You take leave from work immediately, making arrangements to drive back to the farm and spend a night. The funeral is simple, attended by a few close friends and neighbours, but the absence of your grandfather is felt deeply by everyone.

And he’s there too—Logan. He’s standing off to the side, his broad shoulders slightly hunched, his face etched with grief. When your eyes meet, it’s as if no time has passed at all. You walk over to him, and without a word, he pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly as if afraid to let go. 

The few years apart, the pain of the distance, all of it melts away in that embrace. You bury your face in his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him that you’ve missed so much, and the tears you thought you had run out of begin to fall. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, everything hitting you at once—the loss of your grandfather, the years you’ve spent apart, the life you could have had together.

He hugs you tighter, his hand gently stroking your hair. “I miss you,” he murmurs thickly. “Every damn day, I miss you.”

You spend the rest of the day together, holding each other, talking, catching up, and remembering your grandfather. Logan tells you about the farm, about how he’s kept things going, but you can hear the weariness in his voice, the toll that time and loneliness have taken on him. It’s clear that the farm hasn’t been the same without you, just as your life hasn’t been the same without him.

Later that evening, after the guests have left and the house has grown quiet, your grandmother pulls you aside. Her eyes are tired, full of sorrow, but there’s a calm acceptance in her expression. “I’ve made a decision,” she says softly, her voice steady. “I’m going to sell the farm.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, but before you can protest, she continues. “Not to just anyone,” she adds quickly. “To Logan. He’s been more than just a farmhand, you know that. This place is as much his as it was ours. But… I need to move into permanent care. I can’t manage on my own anymore.”

You nod, understanding but feeling a deep sadness all the same. The farm has been a part of your life for so long, and the thought of it changing hands, even to Logan, feels like another loss. But there’s also a sense of relief, knowing that it will be in good hands, that it will stay in the family, in a way.

That night, you’re tangled in Logan’s arms. Leaving him the next morning is just as hard the second time as it was the first.

—

Five years since that fateful summer have passed, and in that time, your life changes in ways you never expected. You’ve built a successful career, made some amazing friends, travelled the world, but the hustle and bustle of city life has taken its toll. The stress, the strain, the dissatisfaction—it begins to weigh on you more and more. 

So, you make a decision.

You quit your job, find something remote, something that allows you to work from anywhere, as long as you can drive into the city every few weeks to drop off documents. It’s a drastic change, but it’s one you need. You realize that the life you want, the life you’ve been yearning for, isn’t in the city. 

It’s back at the farm.

As you step out of your car, you see him. He’s by the paddock, feeding the horses apples, just like he used to. His back is to you at first, but then he turns, and his eyes meet yours, and time stops. 

There’s a lifetime of emotions in that look—love, longing, hope. Most of all, there’s recognition, as if both of you know that this is it, that this is the moment you’ve been waiting for all these years.

And when you’re finally standing in front of him again, he reaches out, his hand trembling slightly as he cups your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek the same way it did all those years ago. 

----

[rafesfawn]

🪽🧺 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋

𝜗ৎ⋆｡˚ when rafe sees a precious little doll on the side of the road with a broke-down car, how can he resist out of the kindness of his heart offering her a ride? just a ride home, that's all...

or how trailerpark!angel!reader and rafe met!

warnings: use of the nickname pet & little one, reader! is eighteen-nineteen! bit of perv!rafe, barely proofread!

a/n: first time writing a rafe fic/blurb! im so excited, also this is based on this ask and thank you so much for sending something I really appreciated it and I hope u like it mwah! I would say you two meet in like early season 2 (right before the cross storyline) also for the format slight ib to others on here esp @rafesangelita (sorry for the tag!)

this was based off of this ask! which tysm i literally love requests and rafe and trailerpark!angel!reader is my new obsession <3

a small, meaningless kick was made to the tire while you huffed and groaned, putting two hands over your frustrated features as all you wanted to curl up into a ball and cry.

“piece of shit,” you mumbled under your breath, kicking the tire once more, but immediately a whimper fell from your lips. the pain shot from your toe up to your spine. making you sniffle and tip-toe in pain. in your denim ruffle skirt, white socks, and pink converse, you sat down on the asphalt, on the side of the road, leaning against the side of your broken-down car.

she wasn’t the best car, but she surely got you around most of the time. most of the time. it was a little volkswagen beetle, light pink in color, covered in so many stickers some wondered if it was passing inspection. it wasn't.

sitting with your head against the car for what felt like hours (it was maybe ten minutes), but spending even that on the side of a main road in kildare island was torture. especially with the beating sun late august provided.

rafe was speeding down the road on the way to play golf and get drunk with topper and kelce. “ah shit, i don’t know, man.” he said into his phone, holding it up with one hand; his voice gruff and confident, topper on the other line. “you really think i won’t kick your ass today huh?” a smirk grew on his already smug expression.

letting out a short chuckle at toppers response, nothing anybody ever said meant more than a laugh to him. or that's what it used to be like anyway, his act wasn't together if anything, it was worse than it'd ever been. his father condemning him to disingenuous "discipline" to forget about the possible death of his golden daughter.

"the fuck?" he mutters into the mic, his voice laced with confusion. as he sees up ahead on the road, a pink car broken down, with the most precious thing sitting against it. a pout on the angels soft lips and the most defeated look in her eye. aw, you just fell right into my lap, didn't you? little angel.

your eyes glued on the pavement, your entertainment of watching a little ladybug try to make it to safety in the distance, was shortly interrupted.

a nice black truck coming into view it came to such a short stop it almost took your breath away, the breaks slightly screeching at the haste. a tire replaced the spot the ladybug once was.

you stood brushing the dirt and gravel off the backsides of your pale thighs, left bare by the short fabric of your skirt.

the man stepped out of the truck. he was tall, and the sleeves of his polo looked like they were about to burst at the seams, not able to contain the biceps beneath. his features strong and statue-like, his deep sea eyes hidden behind the curtain bangs that hung over his forehead. a grin that seemed too genuine, too good to be true.

you removed your heart-shaped sunglasses, placing them on top of your head to see him more clearly. your possible savior, but he was anything but.

he stepped a bit closer, seeing the state of her already pretty beaten car, "having some car trouble?" rafe asked as if he wasn't stating the obvious.

you pretended he wasn't either as you nodded, the frown only slight now but still on your lips as your eyes remained looking up into his.

"aw.. poor thing we can't have that, what happened?" his voice, a mockery of sympathy. as he inspected the piece of shit car she loved so much. his care coming from a place of ownership, of burning ache or want.

still, in slight shock, you hadn't answered him, following behind him as he reopened the hood like he owned the car. not even realizing you'd been rude and not replied till he spoke again. "little one, i can't fix it if you don't tell me what's wrong." a heady mix of gentle and firm that made your mouth go dry and your head dizzy.

"oh- it's been on her last limb for like ever, i guess she finally called it quits... right on my way home." you said with a little sad laugh that rafe wanted to bottle the sound of and listen to on repeat. "and I really need to get home," you added fiddling with your fingers in front of you.

a sweet girl all out of options, rafe was so glad he was here to provide her with his help. "tell you what, I'll take you home and come back and fix this thing up for you, huh?" he offered, there goes his saturday plans he presumed. it'd be worth it. he told himself he'd make it worth it, with those shy eyes and the expression you carried like a lost puppy. you'd owe him he'd make sure to get something in return.

just like he figured, you shook your head. never wanting to accept such a grand favor. "I can't ask you to do that, I mean, I don't even know your name." nerves, curiosity, and a glint of something else tinged in your voice, so many wonders in that head as soon as his truck came to a stop for you. why? the only question running through your mind.

"It's rafe, can I help you out now?" his genuine grin turned almost smug at his own remark, brushing that bangs out his face, the effort pointless as they immediately fell back again.

you paused. picking at the already chipped white nail polish on your sore fingertips, a larger-rougher hand covered your own, stopping your movements with that firm gentleness he carried around her. you looked up at him, he was so much closer. the scent of some cologne that probably could pay your rent, and a tinge of smokey wood filled your senses.

"pet?" he questioned with an expecting tilt of his head, calling you that like it was the most natural thing in the world.

your body and mouth responding before giving another second for your brain or anxiety to think it over, you nodded. "can you please give me a ride home?" you hesitantly asked, it felt weird. getting help, and even asking for it felt foreign, he offered it so graciously like it was nothing.

looking down upon her, his grin turned genuine once again, his eyes seemed almost proud it was a soothing balm to her nervous heart. a rosy hue to her cheeks as his palm covered the side of her neck, making a few pats to the flesh before leading her to his truck.

you'd owe him. something he was sure you were ready for.

[snoopyracing]

just us // ln4

pairing: lando norris X reader

word count: 15k (again i don't know how to write short fics)

warnings: cursing, alcohol use, smut (18+) (p in v, no protection, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, slight degradation, and exhibitionsim if you squint)

includes: friends to lovers, hidden relationship, jealous!lando, reader and lando being yappers, and reader X max f X lando friendship

summary: the three times your secret relationship with lando almost gets exposed and the one time it finally does.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The sun had just made her grand entrance to the world, golden rays illuminating the quiet Monaco apartment owned by a certain McLaren F1 driver. White bed sheets askew as the two lovers still slept soundly, soft snores echoing through the bedroom. Clothes from the previous nights activities scattered across the floor, almost making a path from the front door to their shared bed. The idea of waking up on neither of their minds, but the sun ray peeking through the open blind caused one of them to stir.

The light shining directly on your face proved opening your eyes to be a little difficult. Squinting, you blindly reached towards the nightstand to grab your phone, but the empty pats on the wood told you your phone wasn't there. A small groan left your lips, even without your phone to see what time it was, you knew it was early. You knew just from the certain birds that were chirping outside, their melodies always filling your ears when you had to get up early.

As you sat up in bed you noticed your lack of pajamas, and as you spotted the trail of clothes leading out of the bedroom you knew your phone had to be somewhere between here and the front door. Memories of the passionate night the two of you shared came flooding back as you leaned against the headboard, the bed sheet tucked under your arms being the only thing to keep your modesty.

The snores coming from beside you told you that Lando was still sound asleep. He was laying on his stomach with his face turned towards you and his arms tucked under his pillow. His muscular arms on full display as he slept like a baby. The shared sheet only covering his bottom half, allowing for his toned back to be exposed.

It was a rare occurrence for the two of you to get mornings like this, or really any chance for you to just admire him in his natural beauty. Lando was always the first to wake, not that he wanted to be, but his lifestyle required him to. Either waking up to travel for race weeks, work out, or work on Quadrant stuff. The boy was going nonstop, so moments like this you never took for granted. It almost brought a sense of normalcy to your lives.

As he laid next to you right now he wasn't some famous Formula 1 driver, he was just Lando. The sweet boy who always texted you good morning and goodnight when the two of you were apart, the boy who always ate the tomatoes off your sandwiches, who always let you pick the music in the car, who always brings you back a stupid tourist souvenir from races you didn't attend. He was yours, every last bit of him.

Your eyes now fully adjusted to the sunlight, grazed over every detail of him. From his little moles, to his eyelashes that made his eyes even more beautiful, to his perfect nose, his jawline sculpted by the gods, and lastly his heart shaped lips. As your eyes moved down to his back you could resist in reaching out your hand to trace mindless patterns as you counted every little mole and freckle that adorned his back.

Feeling him stir under your touch you quickly snatched your hand back, the last thing you had wanted to do was wake him up. And you had thought you were in the clear until a deep, still filled with sleep, voice filled your ears.

"Why'd you stop for?" His eyes were still closed as he untucked his hand from under his pillow, grabbing your now idle hand and moving it back to its prior location on his back.

"So needy." You teased as you resumed the mindless patterns you drew moments ago.

"Hmm. Only for you." He hummed as he felt your touch on him once again. The sensation almost lulling him back to sleep, until the sun that had awoken you moved towards Lando, the beam of light now adorning his face. He looked almost ethereal to you in this light, a moment you wished you had your phone for to capture. His blue eyes even brighter as the light poured into them. "Jesus." He mumbled as he quickly moved away from the light.

"Yeah I don't think the sun wants us to sleep in today, woke me up too." You glanced back at the open blind, then back to the Brit who now was on his side, hand propping up his head as he looked at you. "Maybe if someone closed the blind last night we'd both still be asleep."

A smirk formed on his face at the memories of last night's events. "Maybe if someone would have kept their hands off of me, I would have remembered to close the blind."

"As if!" You scoffed.

His eyebrows raised, cheesy grin on his face as he recalled your words to him. "Really? Because all I can seem to remember is 'lan please touch me' 'i need you' 'don't sto-"

A pillow came barreling towards his face, his words mumbled as he continued to tease you. "Ok! Enough!" You hollered out, a blush creeping onto your cheeks at his words.

"Awe, is my girl embarrassed?" Laughter laced in his words as he moved closer to you. "Honestly I love the fact that you can't keep your hands off me and the day that I don't is the day I need to be taken out back and shot."

"You're so fucking dramatic I cannot." You laughed, eyes rolling playfully at him. "It's a good thing I love you Norris."

His smile still not leaving his face as he switched to join you in sitting up in bed. His hands reaching out to cup your face as he leaned in closer. "You better." He teased before connecting his lips with yours. The feeling something you prayed you'd never grow tired of. His kisses always had somewhat of a drug feeling to you, always making you want more, point proven as he went to pull away you were grabbing at him, pulling him back in. And when you had finally got your full fix he was the one that looked like a dopey fool, lips swollen and eyes hooded. "God I love you." He stated as his fingers traced from your neck down to your arm.

A smirk was tugging at your lips as you repeated Lando's words back to him. "You better."

The two of you spent the remainder of the morning wrapped in each other. Your head on his chest as he ran his hands through your hair, your fingers tracing patterns on his torso. It was peaceful, until the obvious topic that lingered in both your minds had finally festered enough. "We need to talk about yesterday Lan."

Ah, yes, yesterday. How could he forget? How could he forget that he exposed their hidden relationship to the whole world on accident.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The said hidden relationship had been going on for around seven months, but Lando and you had known each other for years. The two of you met through mutual friends and instantly clicked. A bond formed and in what seemed like no time. Lando was someone you considered a best friend or a platonic other half, he just somehow always got you, knew what you were thinking, knew what to do when you were feeling upset or stressed. For Lando you were the one person who could calm him down after a bad race, who could make him laugh without even trying, and was the first person he thought of when he woke up in the morning. You knew each other's favorite foods, childhood dreams, and embarrassing secrets.

You attending the occasional races that were closer to home soon turned into Lando practically begging you to come to any race you could. Off weeks and breaks always spent in each others company. To any outsider looking in, the two of you were practically already together, at least it seemed like it. But if anyone asked either of you if there were feelings there (which many friends had) the both of you would say no. The both of you had never looked at each other in that way. Yes you loved him and you knew he loved you. And yes you weren't blind he was very attractive, but romantic feelings had never crossed your mind. You always pointed out to the people that prodded you with questions about Lando and you, that the both of you've had relationships in the time you've known each other. None of them ever lasting very long though. The both of them not knowing at the time that they were the main causes of their failed relationships.

Though, everything changed one cold January night in London. He had been handsy with you all night at the club, which Lando's hands on you wasn't a new concept, but tonight was excessive and different. His large hands always somehow planted on your hips, his chin resting on your shoulder. You blamed it on the alcohol, that he was just feeling affectionate, but you couldn't deny the feelings that were starting to fester inside of you. The feeling of him pressed up behind you. The feeling of his breath tickling your neck when he would whisper something in your ear. It was awakening something foreign in you towards Lando.

You could feel people's eyes on the two of you, videos undoubtedly being uploaded to social media. It wasn't the first time you had gotten filmed in public, in fact you were used to it, but under tonights circumstances you felt annoyed. You weren't sure if it was the music pouding in your chest or your heart, but combine that with the random eyes staring at you while Lando's hands are on you and this club was the last place you wanted to be. It felt suffocating almost, and you could barely manage to tell Lando you were heading home before you wriggled out of his grasp and made a b-line for the exit.

The cold air that hit your lungs as you exited the club was a soothing relief. The deep breaths you took as you pulled up Uber on your phone had managed to steady your heart rate, but that lasted for a mere second as a familiar hand landed on your shoulder.

"Y/N. Are you okay?"

Goosebumps formed on your skin and you weren't sure if it was from the cold or his touch. You didn't dare look back at him, just focused your attention on getting a ride. "I'm not feeling great. Think I may have drank too much." Lie. Both you and Lando knew you had barely had two drinks tonight and your very much coherent words did nothing to back up your statement. "I've got an Uber on the way. You stay. I'll be fine." Your eyes never leaving your phone as you spoke.

Lando had shuffled to the side of you and you could feel his eyes burning into you. "No, if you're leaving then so am I. Think I could crash at your place?"

Any other night this wouldn't have been such a big deal, Lando had stayed the night at your place many of times and you vise versa, but tonight was not like any other night. The mere idea of sharing a bed with him (because that's what friends do right?) made your head spin. All you had wanted to do was go home, take a cold shower, and try to rationalize these feelings you've had tonight. But your mouth was thinking faster than your brain and a 'sure' came tumbling out past your lips.

"Ok good." Lando stated, a smile tugging at his lips as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. The simple action causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach and that's when you knew the goosebumps from earlier were caused by the later option.

The 15 minute drive back to your place felt like an eternity.

The simple gesture of Lando putting his hand on your thigh as you got settled in the back seat made your breath catch in your throat. His head quirked towards you, eyebrows furrowed and his long fingers squeezed your thigh as he asked. "You good?"

You were in fact far from good. Your best friend was getting you hot and bothered in the back of an Uber, so no you weren't good.

"Just choked on my own spit, you know me."

The entire ride his hand felt like a thousand pounds on your thigh, the gesture that you never once batted an eyelash at now had you practically wanting to jump out of the moving vehicle.

The smell of his cologne was making your head spin as you tried to focus on anything other than how fast your heart was beating. If it hadn't been freezing outside you would have rolled down the window and stuck your head outside like a dog.

As the driver turned down your street you already had a grip on the door handle and he hadn't even come to a complete stop before you were opening the door and getting out.

Lando was fast on your heels, and by the time you entered your apartment you had decided that you were sleeping on the couch tonight.

A puzzled Lando stood motionless as he watched you carry a pillow and blanket from your room to the couch in the living room. "What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna sleep out here tonight. You can have my bed." You stated as you made your way towards your bedroom to grab some pajamas. The faster you could get ready for bed and away from whatever spell Lando had on you the better.

He had sat down on your bed as you rummaged through your dresser and you hadn't even heard him follow you to the bathroom until he spoke.

"Are you still not feeling good? Is that the reason you're sleeping on the couch? Or are you pissed at me? I'm already sorry for whatever I did."

As you glanced over at him he was leaning against the door frame and the sight of his shirt slightly raised up should not have made your heart beat quicken like it did, but yet here you were. You ignored his question, instead you were digging through the bathroom drawers, on a mission for your makeup wipes, but you couldn't seem to locate them.

"Top left." Lando shuffled into the bathroom towards the said drawer and as he pulled it open there sat your makeup wipes. A small smirk played at his lips as he handed them over to you.

You mumbled out a 'thanks' as you took them from him. As you took off your makeup he grabbed his toothbrush from the medicine cabinet. And as the two of you stood side by side getting ready for bed you realized just how much the scene playing out was nothing shy of domestication. What male friend knows what drawer your makeup wipes are in? And has his own toothbrush in your bathroom, not the guest bathroom? Has his own drawer in your dresser? Has his designated side of the bed? What other male friend touches you the way Lando does? Holds you? What other person in your life knew you as well as Lando? Who else did you have matching necklaces with? Your brain wouldn't stop with the questions, your body autopiloting the rest of your nighttime routine.

You felt Lando's arms sneak around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as the two of you made eye contact in the mirror. "Don't make me sleep alone tonight." He mumbled, before retreating to your bedroom. His words felt like ice in your veins and as you stood there staring back at yourself in the mirror you realized one thing.

You were fucked.

Thinking back to everytime one of your friends asking if Lando and you were together and you saying no, that there were no romantic feelings there now suddenly seemed like a big lie. Jesus christ, you guys were literally together, minus the kissing and sex, the two of you acted like you were in a relationship.

Did you have romantic feelings for Lando though?

The simple thought of 'i'm in love with my best friend' honestly had never crossed your mind. And thinking back to his past relationships there was never any jealousy coming from your side. So was all this that you were feeling tonight just a fluke? Maybe a side effect from the dry spell you've been having when it came to sex? But as you still stood there staring mindlessly at your reflection all the little pieces started to fit together.

You had said there were no feelings because your brain had blurred the lines between friendship and romantic feelings so much you couldn't tell the difference. Maybe it was your brain's way of protecting you, not letting you fully realize how you felt.

You had never gotten jealous or upset when Lando had gotten into relationships and it was because he still treated you like his number one even while seeing someone else. Looking back you had done the same in your past relationships. You remembered that the two of you had expressed vocally to each other that there must have been something wrong with them as to why they couldn't keep a partner for more than a couple months. And now you could see that you two were each others issue. Who wants to be in a relationship where the other person's heart already belongs to someone else?

How could you have been so blind? Because now the thought of 'i'm in love with my best friend' truly did cross your mind.

As you finally came back down to earth you realized you were going to have to face him as you exited the bathroom to get to the living room. The door had been open the whole time and you could hear a random sitcom playing softly on the TV. You didn't even want to look at him, afraid that one look would make you crawl in next to him. But as your feet moved from the cold tile to plush carpet your heart swelled at the sight in front of you.

Lando was already fast asleep on his side of the bed. Light snores emitting from him, his arm outstretched to your side, like he was waiting for you to climb into his arms (like you usually did). Your legs felt like cement pillars as you forced yourself out of your room. The urge to be wrapped up in his arms almost overpowering the sane part of you. You needed to be alone tonight, it was the smart thing to do. You had realized some big things about yourself and your relationship with Lando tonight and the level headed thing to do was to distance yourself until you had your head on completely straight.

That though, was easier said than done.

You were tired when you laid down on the couch, but yet almost two hours later you were still tossing and turning. Your mind being the main contributor as to why you were still up, Lando being the only thing on your mind. The uncomfortable couch didn't help either and you felt sorry for any your friends who had previously crashed on it. You tried to distract yourself, but scrolling on TikTok ended 30 minutes ago and you could only play so much Monopoly Go before you ran out of dice. A loud sigh escaped past your lips as the time on your phone read 3:00. If you would have just slept in your own bed you would have been in a deep sleep right now. But you were determined to not give in to your desires.

Ten minutes later your willpower gave out and you were walking down the hall towards your room. You slowly turned the door handle, not wanting to wake Lando. As you quietly closed the door, you couldn't help but shake your head at the fact that you were sneaking into your own room right now. It felt funny, like you were suddenly a teenager again.

Whatever had been playing on the TV had shut off and the glow of the screen saver was the only thing illuminating the room. Lando was still sound asleep, he was on his side now, and you were thankful that his back would be to you when you climbed into bed. Tip toeing to your side you carefully slid under the covers, the feeling of being in your own bed immediately relaxing you.

In a matter of seconds of you laying down Lando had flipped over, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you into him. For the first time in you think ever, you tensed at the feeling of being in his arms. It wasn't that you didn't want to be in his arms, it was that you did. It was that everything was different now. You weren't just wrapped in the embrace of your best friend. You were wrapped in the embrace of you best friend that you have unknowingly had romantic feelings towards for who knows how long.

The feeling of his thumb rubbing small circles where your shirt had slid up let you know he was awake, but you didn't instigate any conversation.

"Been waiting for ya." His sleep filled whisper tickled your neck, a shiver running down your spine.

Your hand traveled to his arm that had made its home around your waist, your hand covering his in a comforting way. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you."

Lando had pulled you closer to him, if that was even possible, your back flush against his front.

This was definitely something friends didn't do.

"It's okay. I couldn't sleep that well without you, kept waking up."

His words made your heart race, how have you just now realized that this relationship was not normal? Before you never batted an eyelash when he talked to you like that, but now he had you a blushing mess in his arms.

"What do you do when I'm not with you?" Your words were barely above a whisper.

"Take Nyquil." He deadpanned.

You craned your neck to look back at him, laughter lacing your words. "You're joking?!"

The light from the TV illuminated his face enough for you to see the sleepy smile on his face. "I'm not joking. I honestly think I might have built up a tolerance for it because it didn't work last week."

"Good lord Lan." You stated as you rested your head back on the pillow. "Maybe you should try Melatonin instead. Pretty sure it would be safer."

A simple hum was all you got in response and after a few moments of silence you thought he had fallen back asleep. His hand that had been tracing small circles on your skin had stilled and you took that as a sign for you to go to sleep too. Your eyes hadn't been closed for maybe ten seconds when he whispered something that made your eyes fly open.

"Wouldn't have to take anything to go to sleep if I just had you with me all the time."

Your body slowly turned towards him, your faces inches apart. It was time to face the music and talk about what you two were. Even though you had wished to work through it a little more on your own before talking to Lando. He was clearly testing the waters with you and what a better time to talk about how you were in love with your best friend than when you're in bed with them?

Words scrambled around in your brain, a thousand ways to go about this existed, but you couldn't get your brain and mouth to communicate. The two of you laid there, drowning in eachothers eyes, until you could finally put together a sentence.

"What's going on with us?" Lando only cocked an eyebrow at you, his eyes scanning your face to figure out where you were going with this. "Lan." You were wanting a response from him, not a confused look.

"What are you talking about?"

A sigh came tumbling past your lips, he was going to make you be the one to say it. "Lando. Do you think the way we act towards each other is normal? Like what other friends act the way we do with each other? The way you've been with me tonight is especially not how friends should act. Imagine how weird it would be if it was Fewtrell next to me right now instead of you." You paused, knowing what you were going to say next was going to change everything, and once you said it there was no going back. "We are more than friends Lando."

His mouth opened to say something and then immediately shut. He never thought this day would come. He had realized that things were more than platonic between you two months ago, and they had been the most agonizing couple months. Him knowing that he was in love with you, but too scared to say anything incase you didn't feel the same was driving him crazy. So, he pressed the envelope with his actions and words, hoping you would open your eyes.

His silence was slowly eating away at you. Had you just dreamt up all this stuff about you guys being more than friends? Had you misinterpreted his actions towards you and now made yourself look like a fool? "Please don't tell me this is one sided. God did I just fuc-"

Lando's lips on yours took you by surprise and it took a minute for your brain to catch up to be able to kiss him back. His lips were soft and it was a much different (better) feeling than whenever he had kissed your forehead or any other place that wasn't your lips (which again, how was that platonic?). His hand had traveled up towards your neck, his thumb resting on your cheek as he deepened the kiss. You felt light headed, never in a million years did you think you'd be kissing your best friend like this, but god did you love it. It was slightly embarrassing how you were already craving more as he pulled away, both of you with stupid smiles on your face.

"Yeah I don't think friends do that." He stated as he tried to catch his breath.

"No friends don't do that." The smile on your face still prominent as you stared at Lando.

His hand reached out for yours, your fingers interlocking causing the already prominent butterflies in your stomach to flutter even more. The two of you found your selves staring at each other once more, your eyes getting lost in the sea that was his eyes.

"Is this where we say we love each other?" Lando's words bringing you back to reality.

It wasn't uncommon for you guys to tell each other that you loved one another. In fact the last time those words were spoken was just a couple days ago. But now those three little words meant so much more, it was different now. Everything between the two of you was different now. Even if it didn't seem like that big of a deal it was, at least to you. Your teeth found the inside of your bottom lip as you plucked up the courage to say it.

"Everything is gonna be different now." Lando furrowed his eyebrows, head cocked in a questioning manner. His silence told you to continue speaking. "What I'm trying to say is yes I love you, but now those words mean so much more. We've crossed a line and there is no going back. It's gonna be different in public now, especially with your fans, and oh god we are never gonna hear the end of it from our friends. Do you think-"

Once again Lando had interrupted your rambling by smashing his lips onto yours. The action still taking you by surprise, but your reaction time had sped up significantly since the first time. This kiss was different from the first, it was more loving, slower even. It was like he was trying to calm you, reassure you about whatever you were worried about.

As he pulled away he laid flat on his back, his arms inviting you into them. With no obligation you scooted over to him, your head resting on his chest as his arms wrapped around you. The feeling of him pressing chaste kisses to the top of your head made your eyes flutter shut, you wanted to savor this moment.

"I love you, like a lot, probably too much for my own good. And if I had to guess I would say when we've said it to each other before, deep down we knew how we really felt when we said it. So, I don't think it's any different now because how I feel about you right now is how I've felt about you the whole time. Granted it took me a little while to figure it out, but fuck Y/N. It's always been you. Always has and always will be."

You had never had someone talk about you like that and in the moment you were thankful that you weren't facing Lando or else he would see the tears welling up in your eyes.

"And everyone already thinks we are together, and my fans like you, but if you're worried about going public we don't have to, not until you're ready. I mean hell we can continue to act the way we usually do, but I'll just have to keep my lips off of you, which may be more difficult than I thought." A grin was plastered on his face as he peppered kisses all over your shoulder, giggles erupting from you at his actions.

"I know your fans like me, but to them I'm still just your best friend, I'm not with you. There is a big difference Lando. Also, it wouldn't hurt to keep it from our friends for awhile, maybe just a month or two. Do you really want to hear Max go on and on about how he was right? It will never end. We've deprived ourselves of each other for years. I just want to enjoy us, without everyone else putting their nose where it shouldn't belong.

"Alright then it's decdided."

You lifted your head from his chest. Leaning up towards him you pressed your lips against his. "I love you."

Lando returned the favor, your lips together once again. "I love you too."

Your head rested back on Lando's chest, his arms wrapped around you once more. A moment you could get used to having, the feeling of his lips though something you don't think you'll ever get used to.

"And you're right. I know Fewtrell has bets placed on us, we'd never hear the end of it." Lando's chest vibrated with laughter, and when he laughed so did you. And in that moment there was no better feeling than being in the arms of the man you loved, laughing.

So, from that moment on the two of you kept your relationship hidden. You still acted like before (two best friends who were basically together because they were secretly in love with one another). But kept your intimate moments behind closed doors.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Over the course of your relationship there were a couple times where you guys almost exposed the two of you. The first time was two months in, when a jealous Lando almost spilled the beans.

It was a race week, the Australian GP to be exact. It was the first race of the season that you were attending since the two of you had decided to keep your relationship a secret. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for you to be there during race weekends. Infact last season you had probably been to at least 75% of the races, so you were a well known face around the paddock and garage. But even with you being around people you knew and a familiar atmosphere, you were still slightly nervous as you walked through the paddock. This was going to be the first real test of seeing if you guys could keep your relationship under wraps. There were cameras literally every few feet, which meant no room for slip ups.

As you approached McLaren hospitality you spotted Lando outside the entrance talking to Carlos.

"Hello boys." You greeted as you approached them. Smiles beaming from both of them back at you. "Are you lost Carlos?" You joked with the Ferrari driver.

A smirk splayed across his face. "Ah just came over to see you hermosa." The Spaniard always was a flirt, especially with you. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Lando tense at Carlos shamelessly flirting with you. "When are you gonna lose the papaya and come wear red?"

Rolling your eyes you couldn't help but let out a laugh at his antics, he truly had no shame in his game. "Behave Carlos."

Y/N may have found it funny, but Lando found nothing about this situation funny. And all he could do was stand here and let his ex teammate flirt with his girlfriend.

Before he got to be tortured anymore he was being whisked away to do an interview, but unfortunately for him he still had a clear view of the two of them as he sat down to do his interview.

He could barely focus on what the guy was asking him, his gaze flickering over the guys shoulder to watch you and Carlos every chance he got. He knew whatever Carlos was telling you was not that funny, there was no reason for you to be doubled over laughing.

The interviewer clearing his throat brought Lando's attention back to him. "Sorry could you repeat the question."

"Yes. I was asking after FP3 earlier how confident are you going into qualis in a few short hours?"

Lando gave some bullshit answer, his mind and gaze already wondering back to you and Carlos. His jealousy really starting to peak when Carlos put his hand on your arm as you laughed again at something he said. Lando knew you were just being friendly with Carlos and if anything his jealousy was just from the fact that he couldn't go out there and tell Carlos to fuck off and leave you alone. But when he saw Carlos' hands linger longer than they should have after a hug, the hints of red in his vision weren't from the Ferrari drivers fireproofs. God, how was he going to survive not letting every person in this place that you were his? The interview was thankfully a short one, which may have been due to his inability to focus.

He was handing off the microphone and out of the chair before they had probably stopped recording the interview. He could still see Carlos leaning against the railing outside, but you were long gone.

"Where'd Y/N go?" Lando inquired.

"Said she forgot her sunglasses in the garage earlier."

A simple nod came from Lando as he now joined Carlos in leaning against the railing. Silence had lulled between the two drivers and Lando was thankful that Carlos hadn't brought up Y/N, but seconds later he knew he had spoke too soon.

"You think she's into me?"

Lando nearly choked on his spit at the Spaniard's question. The bluntness of it took him by surprise, but the fact that Carlos really thought he had a chance with Y/N had Lando somewhat amused.

"I don't think so." Lando tried to use a normal voice, if he even knew what that was.

Carlos pushed himself off the railing. His whole body turning to face Lando, who maintained his gaze ahead, not wanting to look over at Sainz. "How do you know she's not?" What was Lando supposed to say? She's not into you because she's in love with me? He had froze up, allowing for Carlos to speak freely. "What are you in love with her or something? Not wanting to let me worm my way in?"

Lando's heartbeat quickened at the mention of him being in love with you. He racked his brain with how he could steer this conversation away from the two of you being together.

"No. She's got a boyfriend." Simple and effective he thought.

Lando still hadn't made eye contact with Carlos, but out of the corner of his eye he could see a smirk on Carlos' face. "Oh yeah who is it?"

So perhaps that wasn't the direction to steer the conversation. "I don't know."

"You're telling me your're her best friend and you don't know who she's dating?" What the hell did Lando get himself into? He had a way of always digging himself into a deeper hole when he talked, and in a situation like this he was really trying to chose his words carefully. But unfortunately for Lando, Carlos took his silence as an answer. "Well I'm taking that as you couldn't think of anyone to say. So when I ask her to dinner tonight, what would she like better? Italian? Chinese? Oh we are in Australia so what about some seafood? Sushi maybe?"

The two drivers now stood face to face as Lando's jealousy turned into irritation. "You're getting your hopes up Carlos. I told you she has a boyfriend."

"Until I have a name I don't believe you."

Lando knew he could just blurt out a random mechanics name from the team and that would pacify Carlos, but his smugness about the whole thing was just rubbing Lando the wrong way. Lando wanted to throw it in Carlos' face that you were his. Not some random guy or any other driver or mechanic's, you were his girlfriend. He knew you would be pissed about him blabbing to Carlos, exposing your relationship. In fact he would be breaking the promise that he made to you, but his judgment was clouded. And like always Lando's mouth worked faster than his brain.

"She's dating-"

"Sorry who's dating who?" Your eyes wide and heart racing as you approached the two drivers once more. You prayed Lando wasn't about ready to say what you thought he was as you stared him down.

Lando's cheeks turned scarlet as he stumbled over his words. He was thankful you showed up when you did to save him from making the mistake, but he also knew you weren't going to be happy.

"We were just talking about who you were dating." Carlos finally spoke up after watching Lando choke on every attempt at talking.

Your eyebrows raised in a fake suprisment at Lando, sarcasm dripping on every word you spoke. "Oh really?! I didn't know my love life was such a public topic? Who am I dating?"

Lando's eyes flashed back and forth between you and Carlos and as you stood there staring back at him he was already trying to telepathically apologize to you.

"He wouldn't say." Carlos stated as he glanced between Lando and you. The atmosphere was tense and he suddenly felt like he was in the middle of something he shouldn't be. He could find you later to talk, but right now he was trying to figure out how to excuse himself. "I think I'm late to an interview. I'll see you guys later."

As soon as Carlos was out of earshot you spoke, your tone hushed. "You better have a good explanation."

Lando glanced around, there were way too many people around for you two to be having this conversation here. Hell he probably shouldn't have even been talking to Carlos about you here earlier. If he would have told Carlos about the two of you, ten other people probably would have heard too. Grabbing your hand he led you through hospitality doors, down a small hallway, and then suddenly you were in what looked to be a storage room. McLaren merch was strewn about and various snacks and drinks lined the counters.

As you heard the lock on the door click you turned to see Lando leaning against it. No words were exchanged, you only raised your eyebrows at him, indicating for him to explain himself.

Lando pushed himself off the door, his hands reaching out for you to hold. When you only gave him a blank expression, he wiggled his fingers, emphasizing his want.

"Baby." The slight smile on his face didn't match the whiny questioning tone of his voice. Rolling your eyes at his dramatics you placed your hands in his, fingers intertwining as he pulled you closer to him. "I'm sorry. I let my jealousy get the better of me. I couldn't stand looking at Carlos shamelessly flirt with you. Then once you left he was talking to me about asking you out and he just wouldn't let up. It was driving me crazy, I just wanted to tell him to fuck off, that you were mine. And clearly I almost did until you walked up."

His eyes scanned your face for any indication that you weren't completely pissed off at him, but to his surprise your lips were on his. It was a quick kiss, his brain barely comprehending it was happening before you were pulling away, only making him desperate for more.

"I'm not mad, it just took me by surprise when I walked up and that was coming out of your mouth. I also knew he was flirting with me, why do you think I finally left? I could only play nice for so long, so I made up the excuse of me leaving my sunglasses in the garage." You paused, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. A small smile washed across Lando's face as he leaned into your touch. "Just please from now try and keep your jealousy in check? I've liked these past couple months with just us two, not us two and millions of other people. Plus, you have nothing to be jealous about. I love you. Not Carlos or Charles or-"

Lando's eyes widened. "Wait how many other drivers have been flirting with you?"

"It's not important. All I was trying to say is that I love you and only you!"

Lando scoffed, his hands grabbing at your waist, pulling you flush against him. "I love you too baby, but I'm gonna have to hide you or something. I don't think my heart can take seeing all these guys fawn over you."

Your hand reached up to his hair, your fingers running through his mop of curls. While his hands were placed firmly on your hips, his fingers toying with the fabric of your shirt. "You'll survive pretty boy."

"Oh so you think I'm pretty?" Lando teased as he leaned in to satisfy his desire to taste your lips after the tease of a kiss moments ago.

"Yes, but you're my pretty boy."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The second time your relationship was almost exposed was entirely your fault. Getting wasted + missing your boyfriend = blabbing to your friends.

To say perhaps you had been neglecting your friends since being with Lando was an understatement. Always denying their invites out because you were either working, going to a race, or saying you were working when really you were with Lando.

You had been trying to make plans for over a month with your friends, but it never seemed like anyone's schedule lined up, until this weekend. It was an off week for Lando and he had suggested that your friends and you have a girls weekend in Monaco, even saying you guys could stay at his apartment. Though, to you, a hotel sounded safer. You had way too much of your stuff at his place for it to seem like anything platonic.

So, here you guys were, getting ready in a hotel not even ten minutes away from Lando's apartment. Music playing in the background as you rummaged through your suitcase for the perfect outfit for tonight. Laughter erupting from everyone as you recalled funny memories from past nights out. It felt good to be with them again, you had missed this, missed them.

Work had been absolutely draining you these past couple weeks, deadlines and unread emails haunted your dreams. You had even been so busy that you had to miss Lando's race last week. It had been almost two weeks since you had even seen him. Facetime being your main form of communication as of recently. But tonight wasn't about Lando, it was about going out and having a good time with your friends. Although, someone should have told drunk you that.

You're all piling into an Uber before you know it, skirts and dresses slightly too short, but no one cared because that's the fun of it all. The conversation consists of who's going to get the most drunk and from the pregaming that took place back at the hotel it could be anyone. It then shifts to who might go home with someone tonight and of course because you've been 'single' the longest everyone says you need to be the one to. And of course you play along saying "Honestly I need to. It's been awhile since I've gotten any action."

Which wasn't a lie, you hadn't seen Lando in two weeks. Your work being primarily based in London and him being in another country for almost a week. Then this weekend being a girls weekend had provided less than enough time for you guys to even talk on the phone, let alone fool around.

"Well we are in Monaco. Let's pray our girl bags a hot millionaire." Your friend stated.

Already accomplished that.

The bass from the music rattles in your chest as you walk through the club with your friends in tow. The bar is of course the first stop, you open a tab and tell the girls to get what they want. You decide on a rum and coke, you weren't planning on going absolutely crazy tonight, but a couple of these plus the pregaming at the hotel would have you feeling happy tonight.

"Let's dance!" One of your friends shouts as she's already heading into the swarm of bodies.

You swayed your body to the beat, it felt good to finally let loose and have some fun. Your eyes closed as you got lost in the music, warmness radiating through you from the alcohol in your veins, but also the other dancing bodies around you.

As the night progressed so had your alcohol consumption. You honestly weren't planning on going this hard, but everything was just going down so smoothly and you were having such a good time. But you knew as your friend brought over everyone a double round of tequila shots you were done for. You were a big girl and you could have said no, but you were already so inebriated at that point the idea of saying no never crossed your mind. Only I'm gonna regret this in the morning as you said bottoms up.

Before you knew it you were wasted and as your friends tried to rally you so you all could leave you were proving to be a little more than difficult. It didn't help that your friends, although not as gone as you, were also clearly drunk. They had somehow managed to get you outside amidst your protests that the 'night was still young', at two in the morning.

You were trying to stand upright as you waited for your friend to get an Uber, but apparently to you the pavement looked more comfortable and down you went. Your knees and arms were scraped up, but you didn't feel anything, at all. You were practically floating at this point, one more shot and you would have been at black out level.

"Ok. Just sit on the curb. It's gonna be a minute for the Uber." Your least drunk friend said as she clamped a hand on your shoulder, preventing you from getting back up.

"Ugh. Just call my boyfriend he can come get us." In your drunken state you hadn't realized what you had said.

"Your boyfriend!? Who's your boyfriend?" You had the attention of all your friends now.

Pulling your phone out of your clutch you thanked the Apple Gods for face id because there was no way you could have put in your passcode. Getting to your recent calls was easier said than done and at one point you had accidently called your Mom. "Oops. Sorry Mom." You giggled. Your fingers and brain weren't working in sync so you resorted to Siri, which was not a good idea either.

"Siri call Lando."

Your friends necks nearly broke from how fast they turned them towards your phone.

"Sorry I didn't get that." Siri chimed off

"Siri call Lando Norris."

Failed.

"Siri call Laaanndoooo."

Failed again.

"Siri-"

"Ok enough. I'll just call him. Uber cancelled on me anyways." Your friend stated as she held her phone up to her ear. "Hey Lando. It's Y/F/N. Yeah sorry for calling so late. No everything's ok it's just that our Uber cancelled and Y/N mentioned something about you being able to come get us? If not it's fine- Oh ok great thanks. We are at the club with the big neon sign on the front. Yeah ok see you in a couple minutes."

"Who was that?" You asked as your friend hung up the phone.

She sat down next you on the curb, her arm wrapping around your shoulders, your head leaning to rest on her shoulder. "Lando. He's coming to get us."

Your eyes widened as your head perked up at the mention of his name. "Oh good. I've missed him!"

Your friends all exchanged questioning glances. Not sure if Lando was the boyfriend you had mentioned, if you were so drunk that you thought Lando was your boyfriend, or if they were so drunk that they had misinterpreted what you were saying. They all had always said that you two had to be together, that you had to have feelings for him, but in this drunken instance they weren't sure what to believe. The saying drunk words are sober thoughts worked in this situation, but they too were drunk, so who was the wiser?

As Lando pulled up to the club he could see you sitting on the curb with your friend, your other friends hovering behind you. Putting the car in park he got out and made his way across the street to you. He wasn't sure what state you were in, but from the scrapes on your knees, glossy eyes, and overly enthusiastic yelling when he approached he knew you weren't just tipsy.

"Lan!" You yelled when you saw him crossing the street. You tried to get up, but your legs gave out. Luckily for you Lando's arms were wrapped around you before you hit the pavement again. "Careful. Think you might've went a little too hard tonight huh?" His cologne invaded your senses, combine that with the hoodie and sweats he had on and all you wanted to do was be in his arms tonight. "Hi guys." He greeted your friends, who were all taking in the scene in front of them. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for Lando and you to be close like this, but after what came tumbling out of your mouth earlier they were second guessing everything. "Come on let's get you guys back to the hotel."

Lando had to help you into the car and then buckle you in while your friends piled in the back seat. "I don't wanna go to the hotel I wanna go to yours." A pout planted firmly on your face.

Ignoring your plea Lando closed the passenger side door and walked back to the drivers side. The car wasn't even a couple minutes from the club and you had passed out, small snores coming from you.

"Are you guys together?" Your friend's question made Lando's heart skip a beat. His eyes flickered up to the rearview mirror, your friends eyes staring back at him made his heart race even more.

"No. Why?" He prayed his tone was normal and not one of a man keeping said relationship a secret.

"She pretty much said you were her boyfriend."

Fuck. He knew she was drunk, but not that drunk to blab about their relationship. He racked his brain on how to spin this around.

"Unfortunately I'm not." Maybe admitting to her friends that he wanted to be with her, but wasn't, might work?

"What do you mean unfortunately you're not? Is this you finally admitting to what we have all known already?" Another friend asked.

Lando glanced over to you in the passenger seat. Your head leaning against the window, hair frizzy, the smell of tequila radiating off of you. Even in your drunken mess he thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world. "Maybe. I'm just afraid I can't give her what she needs." His eyes flickered back to the rearview mirror, questioning looks stared back at him, encouraging him to continue. "I can't always be there 24/7 like a normal boyfriend. Yeah she can travel with me, but she has a life and a job too. I wouldn't want her to lose that aspect of herself just to be with me. I wouldn't want her to think that she came second in my life, because even now right now she doesn't."

What Lando had said was true, it was a insecurity, hell even a fear that he's had for quite some time. The idea of him not being enough for you scared him. The fact that maybe one day you would grow tired of the inconsistency and leave him made him sick. He tried to be the best boyfriend he could, but some days he was so busy that he was lucky to send you a couple texts. It was hard having a career that he loved be so much of his life, something that at this point was a literal part of him. But on the other hand, you were also a part of him. He never wanted you to feel like you came second in his life, because at the end of the day racing doesn't last forever, and he wanted you to be the one that was still there after he took his last lap.

"If that's all that is holding you back from telling her how you feel then you're stupid. How long have you guys been in each other's lives? She's used to your crazy schedule and half the time she makes it work and is with you. She may deny it every time we bring it up, but she's in love with you Lando. Don't let the one person who would literally go to hell and back for you slip away because you're afraid of what might happen."

As the car stopped in front of the hotel Lando turned back to look at your friend. "Clearly you didn't drink as much as Y/N."

"I'm being serious Lando. Tell her." A serious look plastered on her face as your two other friends had started to exit the vehicle. Lando had unbuckled your seatbelt, but you were too knocked out to notice. "Just take her back to your place, it's where she wanted to go anyways. But I swear when we meet up tomorrow and you two aren't together I'm gonna strangle you Norris!"

She had joined your other friends on the sidewalk as Lando rolled down your window to talk to her. "She's completely wasted. I'm not telling her tonight."

"Well then in the morning! Either way you better do it!" Your friend hollered before they all gave him a wave goodbye and made their way into the hotel.

With a sigh Lando rolled your window back up and reached over to buckle you back in. Stirring slightly, you turned in the seat as Lando's hands brushed over you. "We're going home baby girl."

Music played softly on the radio as he drove the winding streets back to his apartment. It seemed like the act had worked on your friends. That you two were still the stubborn lovesick fools to them and not two people hiding their relationship.

By the time Lando had parked the car back at his apartment you had woke up. Something he was grateful for because (though he would never say this outloud) you were an absolute pain to wake up sober, let alone drunk.

"Come on baby, we're home." Lando stood in front of the passenger side, hands out to help you out of the car. A groan came from you as you dramatically swung your legs out, grabbing ahold of Lando's hands he helped you out the rest of the way. With his arm securely around your waist the two of you made your way to the elevator. "My knees hurt." You whined as you walked (stumbled).

"Yeah it seems that you took a nasty tumble." Lando shuffled you into the elevator, pressing the button for his floor with his free hand. You glanced down at your knees, even with your blurry vision you could see the dried blood. "Your arms too. Gonna have to wrap you in bubble wrap next time you go out."

You slowly lifted your arms as you tried to focus your vision to get a good look at them. But it was the same as your knees all you could see was blurry dried blood. "Well shit." You sighed, head falling onto Lando's shoulder.

As soon as you got into the apartment Lando was already bent down in front of you. Your hands on his shoulders as he helped you out of your heels.

"Come on we've got to get you cleaned up." His arm was back around your waist as he led you towards the bathroom. As you sat on the toilet seat lid you waited patiently for Lando to grab the first aid kit. Sleep was creeping its way back in as you sat there, your eyelids feeling heavy. You hadn't even realized you had dozed off until the feeling of a warm washcloth on your knees woke you up. As Lando gently cleaned your knees and arms you watched him. Even in your drunken state you heart couldn't help but swell at him taking care of you. Once he had cleaned and bandaged your injuries he grabbed your makeup wipes from one of the drawers. Your eyes fluttering shut as he did his best to remove your makeup, giggling as he cursed your waterproof mascara.

"Ok time to wash your face."

You had tried to get up to go to the sink, but his large hands pushed you back down. "I don't need you falling again, just stay put."

So you sat there as he applied your face wash, making sure to get the remaining remnants of your makeup off. And as he was applying your moisturizer you couldn't help but stare at him with adorning eyes. You were so utterly in love with him it made you sick. This wasn't the first time he had taken care of you like this, but this was the first time since you'd realized you loved him. And in this moment his actions just simply meant so much more to you than they ever did back then.

"I love you." You said as he rubbed in the last little bit of moisturizer.

His eyes met yours as he looked down at you, his hands cupping your cheeks as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Love you too baby."

He helps you brush your teeth and then seconds later you're crawling into bed. "Nope. I love you, but you are not cuddling up to me tonight in that scratchy dress." He throws some of your pajamas at you as a groan came from you. "Come on dress off."

"Jeez at least take me out to dinner first Norris." You joked as you slowly got off the bed. A smirk toyed at his lips as he rolled his eyes at you. "Are you gonna unzip it for me or?" Lando wasted no time, his fingers pulling the tiny zipper down. As the fabric fell to the ground he placed a chaste kiss on your shoulder, a sign of affection rather than sexual desire.

Thankfully you were able to dress yourself as you were slowly sobering up. Climbing back into bed you were greeted with Lando who had already took his hoodie off and was waiting for you to crawl into his arms, an offer you gladly took.

"I've missed you. I've missed this." You stated as you got settled into his embrace.

A kiss was placed on your temple. "Me too."

You were asleep within minutes, Lando not long after. But when you awoke the next morning with a hangover from hell some things that had slipped your mind came to light as the sun rose. Like the fact that you were out with your friends last night, but had somehow ended up at Lando's.

When Lando woke up he explained everything to you, about how you blabbed and how he hopefully convinced them that you weren't together. That he was just a lovesick fool who wanted to be with you. "They are gonna be expecting us to be together or at least expect me to have confessed my love when we go to lunch later." He was leaned against the headboard, your head in his lap as he ran his fingers through your hair.

"Do you think they even remember?" You asked.

"They weren't as drunk as you, so most definitely."

You lifted your head up to look at him. "Well, just because they are expecting it doesn't mean it has to happen."

So when you guys went to lunch your friends heads perked up when they saw the two of you, hopeful glances shared between them.

"So any news to share from last night or recently?" One of your friends asks as you're browsing the menu. Thankfully the menu covered your face at the moment, because you were trying so hard not to laugh at her question.

You played along though, acting like it was a regular conversation starter. "If you consider me deciding to never go out again after last night news then sure. I've got a hangover from hell."

You weren't even looking, but you could sense your friends eyes darting towards Lando, and a slight jostle from under the table was undoubtedly one of your friends kicking Lando.

"Although, it's still considered brunch hours, maybe I'll get a mimosa. Always heard nothing like getting over a hangover by drinking more." Acting like the tension between Lando and your friends was nonexistent you continued talking. "What are you guys thinking? The turkey club sounds good."

Lando on the other hand was fighting for his life. Between the stares and his now sore shin, he was wishing he would have never came. His phone vibrated on the table and as he picked it up it was a text from one of your friends and it only said one word.

y/f/n: chicken!!!!

At least his cover up worked last night, now hopefully they could just make it through this lunch.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The third time, technically you both were to blame, but you both blamed each other.

The unrelenting sun beat down on Lando as he climbed out of the car after probably the worst FP3 of his career. Granted it was only a practice run, but if this was how the car was going to perform in the actual race then he was done for. Not to mention this was his home race, which any driver wants to perform well in. There was a heatwave at Silverstone this weekend, one of the contributing factors in his shit practice run. The others; absolutely no grip on the tires, sweltering temperatures in the cockpit, and the fact that he couldn't stop thinking about you. Specifically how you looked in the garage before he went out for FP3.

From the get-go this morning when you put on that papaya (let's be real it was orange) tank top that cupped your breasts just right he knew today was going to be a long day. Then when he saw you in the garage the only thing he could think about was taking you back to his drivers room and fucking you till you couldn't walk. The slight sheen of sweat on your skin from the boiling sun gave you a glowing look, that goddamn tank top, and your hair tied up in a ponytail had basically given him a semi. But it was something he could mark off his "insane things to happen while in a race car" list.

1. have a hard on while driving.

As he walked into the garage he was thankful his race suit was slightly baggy in the groin area. When his race engineer started to go over data and possible strategy everything went in one ear and out the other, his mind preoccupied with only down right nasty thoughts about you. His grip on the table that he leaned on getting tighter with each passing moment. He didn't dare glance in your direction, afraid that his slight issue would turn into a full blown one.

You on the other hand were oblivious to how Lando was feeling at the moment. You thought the strained look on his face was from the heat and the not so great practice, not from him wanting to bend you over the first chance he could get. You hadn't even realized Lando was done talking to Will, too engrossed in your phone, until you felt Lando's grip on your arm.

His eyes were like saucers as you looked up at him. His tone was demanding yet he spoke softly to you as he didn't want anyone else to hear. "Come on."

Not one to oblige, you quickly following behind him to where you soon realized was to his drivers room. You figured he wanted to rant or just relax for a little bit before qualifying, but oh boy were you proven wrong as soon as Lando closed the door.

"You've been driving me fucking crazy all day." The almost animalistic tone of his voice went straight through you. His eyes dark as he made his way over to you, hands harshly gripping your waist. Your words were caught in your throat as you stood there, wide eyes staring back at Lando. "Oh don't act like you didn't wear that tank top on purpose. You knew the way it makes your tits look would drive me crazy."

His fingertips traced along the low neckline of your tank top, his touch causing a shiver to run up your spine. A smirk developed on his face as his fingertips traveled up the straps, your neck, and finally landing on your ponytail. His long slender fingers wrapped around it, and you knew what he was about to do, but that still didn't stop the moan that came barreling out of you when he tugged on your ponytail.

"You little slut you liked that didn't you?" Now it was your turn to smirk at him, a small laugh even escaped past your lips, which you knew would go straight through him. "You think this is funny huh? Think I should teach you a lesson."

In an instant his lips are on yours. It's messy and rushed, teeth clashing as he's guiding you towards his physio table. When the back of your legs hit the table he wastes no time in lifting you up onto it. His hands are already tugging at your tank top as he stands between your legs. You break apart just long enough to let him basically rip your shirt off and then his lips are back on yours. His hands had migrated from your hips to your breasts, rolling and pinching your nipples with his fingertips. The stimulation going straight to your core as he swallowed your moans.

Grabbing at his fireproofs you tried to pull him as close as possible to you. You could already feel how wet you were getting, your desire for him growing more by the minute. As he's attacking your neck you reach down and undo the button of your shorts and somehow shimmy them off while still sitting.

"That desperate for me huh? Undressing yourself?" He whispered in your ear, his teeth nipping at your earlobe.

"Only for you." You words breathy as he soothes the spot on your collarbone that will need to be covered in the morning.

Almost like a natural reflex your hips start rolling towards Lando, impatience setting in. All you want is for him to touch you and clearly he got the signal. His hand moved down to your clothed core, fingertips ghosting along it.

Whines emitting from you as you rocked your hips towards his hand. "Lan please."

"You gotta tell me what you want baby girl." His pupils blown as he grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

"I want you to fuck me with your fingers." He felt his already painfully hard cock twitch at your words. No matter how many times you guys fucked, he was always surprised at how filthy your mouth was.

And as the natural born pleaser that he was, he pushed your panties to the side and immediately ran his fingers through your drenched folds. "Fuck baby your soaked."

You leaned back on the table to give him better access and as he slipped the first two fingers in your head fell back. Your moans echoing through the room as his fingers slide in an out of you.

"You gotta be quiet." He says as he adds a third finger.

His thumb works your clit and as his fingers curl up and find that spot that makes you see stars your biting down on his shoulder to try and keep quiet. You can feel yourself getting close, that pit in your stomach growing as those long fingers of his somehow repeatedly hit your g-spot. Lando can tell your close just from the way your breathing.

"Come on baby. Gonna be a good girl and come all over my fingers?"

His words of praise only adding to the the pleasure you were feeling right now. And Lando couldn't help but let out a chuckle at your walls clenching around his fingers as he praised you. Seconds later your coming undone, moans muffled by Lando's shoulder as your orgasm washes over you. His fingers continue to work even through your orgasm, something he always did. Always teetering on the line of overstimulation with you.

But this time he doesn't eventually let up, he's got you pushed all the way back on the table with your legs wide open. His free hand has you basically pinned to the table as he's relentlessly pumping his fingers into you, thumb still circling that small bundle of nerves. Your squirming under him, legs shaking as he teases you with his hushed words.

"Awe can my baby not take it? You want me to stop?"

You can barely think straight, every nerve in your body feels like it's on fire. The sound of his fingers in your wet cunt is borderline sinful. He's got a devilish grin on his face as he starts to slow his fingers, and you remember you didn't answer his question. The pitiful 'don't stop' that you're able get out is sufficient enough for Lando and he goes back to that same toe curling pace.

Lando knows your coming before you do, he knows your body like the back of his hand. The way your walls clench around his fingers and how your breathing gets rigid tells him you're on the edge. With one final curl of his fingers your back is arching as your hands grip the sides of the table. You were sure that you were speaking in tongues, the pleasure so intense you don't even realize how loud your being until Lando's got his hand clamped over your mouth. Eyes wide as he's shushing you, but he's removed his fingers from your cunt and decided to solely focus on your clit, and you think you might die if he tries to give you three orgasms back to back like that.

Lando can feel his cock throbbing in his race suit as he looks at how wrecked he's got you with just his fingers. He knows he can give you another orgasm without even using his cock, he knows you can take it, but his desire to be buried so deep into your pussy that you can feel him in your stomach overrides his pleaser mentality.

He lets you squirm for a few more moments before taking his hand away. His fingers immediately entering his mouth as he licks them clean. You watch him through hooded eyes, chest heaving as you’re trying to come down from your back to back orgasms. The desire for his mouth to be attached to your throbbing clit growing as you watch him. You knew you were being greedy, but you also knew he’d do it if you asked him. The man loved nothing more than being between your thighs. Always thinking that if he died while eating your pussy at least he’d die doing something he loved. And you thought you’d be getting your wish until he’s tugging his race suit down the rest of the way, fireproofs following after.

His cock slaps against his stomach as soon as it's free and you truly don't think you'll ever get used to just how thick it is. Your pussy already fluttering at the thought of him stretching you out. His hands are grabbing at your ankles, pulling you towards the edge of the table. And you don't realize just how much of a mess you had made on it until your ass is basically gliding over the table. Your lips collide for a brief moment as you resume your previous position of sitting on the edge of the table. His tongue exploring your mouth as your hand reaches down to his cock. The simple action of your thumb running over his tip had him moaning into your mouth, his hips bucking towards your hand.

In one swift motion he's got you bent over the table and you're practically dripping with anticipation. Lando's got one hand gripping your waist and his painfully hard cock in the other. The small moan that you let out just by him rubbing his tip between your folds is like music to his ears. Usually he would tease you, but he'd been thinking about this exact moment all damn day, he wasn't going to waste any time teasing. You're both trying to be quiet, but the feeling of just him pushing the tip in has both of you gasping. The feeling of him stretching you out is one of your favorite things in the world. How you can feel every inch of him, feel the vein on the underneath side of his cock, the slight curve in it that always hits your g-spot, it was like a drug that you couldn't get enough of.

By the time he's bottomed out and gotten you nice and accustomed to him he's ready to be absolutely feral. He leans down to your ear, his hands roaming your body as he speaks. "You gonna be a good girl for me? Gonna take my cock like the good little slut you are?" All you can do is whimper in response, but that's all he needs to hear. His large hands are on your waist in an instant and he slowly starts to build up his pace.

He can't help but be mesmerized by how your pussy engulfs his cock as he fucks you. He gets lost in it, his brain (and cock) pussy drunk, and soon enough he's ramming into you so hard that the table is hitting the wall. You're trying so hard to stifle your moans, but he's fucking you like he hates you and you can't get enough of it. You're sure someone has heard you, and if not with your moans then they've got to hear the physio table banging against the wall. And you know this is the moment that is gonna expose your relationship, but you don't even care because he's fucking you so good right now.

When Lando reaches up and grabs your now very messy ponytail and yanks on it at the same time as him hitting your g-spot you couldn't even try to hold in your moan. That in turn got a reaction out of Lando. "You've gotta be quiet pretty girl. You don't want someone to walk in now do you?" He's still got ahold of your ponytail and he lifts your head slightly as he speaks to you. "But I bet you'd probably like that huh? You'd like for everyone to hear how good I'm making you feel. How you're taking my cock so well. Bet you'd even like if someone walked in on us wouldn't you my little slut?" His words made your walls clench around him, which earned a 'fuck' from him.

That familiar feeling in your stomach had started to appear and after the two orgasms earlier you knew you couldn't hold it off for very long. If it wasn't for the table beneath you, your legs would have given out a long time ago.

"Lan I'm close." You were barely able to get that out. You were so fucked out you could barely keep your eyes open, let alone speak.

Lando was close himself, his pace slightly faltering. "I know baby. I'm almost there."

Your toes are curling as your trying to hold it together, but you're beyond overstimulated at this point, it doesn't help that he's reached down and started to rub circles on your clit. Your brain is practically scrambled, the pleasure becoming almost painful, tears start to form in your eyes.

"Lan-" Is all you can squeak out before your third orgasm for the night comes washing over you. Your body damn near convulses on the table as your vision goes white. Lando has to put an arm under you to keep you up right, your body so overstimulated it had given out.

"Oh my god!" You couldn't keep it together, because yet again he was fucking you through your orgasm.

You don't even hear the knock on the door or the person on the other side speak until you hear Lando shout. "I'm fine mate!"

"You sick fuck I know what you're doing!"

A familiar Australian accent filled your ears.

"Go away Oscar." Lando yells as he's still pounding into you, tears steadily streaming down your cheeks.

"I'm looking for Y/N. Have you seen her? She has my sunglasses."

Fuck. You had forgotten about him asking you to hold onto them. And if you remembered correctly you had them on your shirt, the same shirt that Lando practically ripped off of you. You both glanced down at the floor to see Oscar's sunglasses next to your shirt. Oops.

"She's probably in hospitality. Now leave."

You don't know if Oscar responded or if he had even left because the feeling of Lando finally coming undone had spurred on your fourth and final orgasm. Silent screams came from you, your throat raw, your body exhausted. You had never experienced this much pleasure in your life. If you had to describe it in one word you would have to say euphoric.

Lando's hips had finally came to a stop, sweat dripping off him as he tried to catch his breath. If he said this was the best sex of his life he would not be lying. You were both so fucked out, you much more than him, the idea of the fast approaching qualifying on neither of your minds. He stayed inside you for quite some time as his hands caressed your body, especially the spots that he know would be bruised in the morning. Sweet nothings were whispered in your ear, he knew this was a lot for you, but he was so proud of you for taking it so well and he wanted you to know that.

When he finally pulled out the sight of his cum dripping out of you was damn near pornographic. A image that would definitely be apart of his future wet dreams, but when he heard a whimper come from you he was brought back to reality. "I know baby. I'm right here." He's got you in his arms in an instant and a gentle kiss pressed to your lips.

He's got you both cleaned up as best as he can and got you wrapped back up in his arms as quickly as he can. He thinks maybe he shouldn't have gone this hard here, should have done this at home where he could have ran you a bath or something more loving, but his worries dissipate when you speak up.

"There is no way Oscar didn't know I was in here. So I guess if this is how we let everyone know about us. At least it was enjoyable."

Lando laughs a little at her optimism. "We've always somehow made it through our mishaps unscathed. So I'm sure we will this time."

And somehow by what you two would consider a miracle you do. Oscar never mentions anything to the two of you about that day and neither does anyone else. In all reality you knew Oscar probably knew and everyone else in a mile radius, but they just kept it to themselves. Probably figuring it was too awkward to bring up, but whatever the reason you were thankful and somehow incredibly lucky.

But from that day forward you couldn't step foot in Lando's driver room without thinking of the events that took place on that hot July day at Silverstone.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

By the time summer break had arrived the both of you were very much surprised that your relationship was still private. Looking back at all your mishaps and slips of the tongue, it was a miracle the whole world didn't know by now. The two of you had recently discussed the idea of launching your relationship, but you were honestly content with how things had been.

So, you decided to let it happen organically. You guys would continue to have a private relationship, but if there was a slip of the tongue you two wouldn't try to back peddle and save your asses. The both of you agreeing that it was going to happen sooner or later, so it was better to just accept what the universe had wanted to happen so many times before. Although, you just didn't think that it was going to happen the way it did.

How would an F1 driver spend a Friday night while on his summer break? Going out? On vacation? Going out while on vacation? All wrong if you are Lando Norris.

On a beautiful Friday night in August you were sat between Lando and Max on a stream, reading through the chat as they talked about something undoubtedly dumb.

One comment caught your eye, you laughed as you read it aloud. "When I show up to a yapping contest but Lando and Max are my opponents."

Their conversation halted, both of them faking offence. "Don't let Y/N fool you guys. She's the biggest yapper out of us three." Lando stated.

"I am not!"

All three of you now in a yapping contest, each person trying to defend themselves. A moment that will surely be clipped and used as a reaction video on Twitter before the stream is over.

Though the conversation quickly moved on as you guys tried to decide what to do. Max had promised it wouldn't just be a sit and chat stream, yet that is all you guys had done for the past thirty minutes. "Ok chat, let us know what you want us to do. We are at your mercy on this Friday night." You stated, eyes scanning the screen as people's ideas started to pour in.

user1: play f124!

user2: cinnamon challenge lmao

That one caught your eye, laughter lacing your words. "Cinnamon challenge? What is this 2012?"

user3: take funny quizzes

user4: mukbang!!!!

user5: yes mukbang!! we need a repeat of the famous 2022 mukbang stream.

You chuckled at the mention of the previous mukbang the three of you did. It was one of Max's most viewed streams, which you never understood why. All you guys did was stuff your face and attempt some very bad ASMR. But people still used clips from it to this day on Twitter. Nonetheless, you were always down for a good feast, your mind already running through what you should get.

Raising your eyebrows you glanced back and forth between Max and Lando. "Mukbang?"

Lando and Max's eyes lit up at your propsition. "Let's do it."

"Ok chat. Mukbang 2024 will commence shortly." You stated as Max pulled out his phone to see what sounded good. You leaned over to look as he scrolled through the options. When your favorite Sushi place popped up he immediately stopped scrolling, your eyes meeting in a knowing glance. No words were spoken as you both shook your heads yes. You both knew Lando would be pissed, but you didn't care. You hadn't had it in so long, your mouth was practically watering at the thought of it.

"Ok. We are getting sushi." You didn't even look in Lando's direction as you spoke, you could just imagine the disgusted look on his face.

"Ugh. No!" His complaint fell on deaf ears as Max and you were already placing your order. "Guys please why don't we do pizza or something?"

"Two against one mate. You want your usual spring rolls?" Max glanced up from his phone, eyebrow raised in question towards Lando.

And like a child Lando leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed and a pout on his face. "I guess." No matter how hard he tried to like fish, he just couldn't stomach it. In fact, he had tried it multiple times since you had been in his life, thinking if the women he loved liked fish then maybe he could learn to like it. But each time he was running for the toilet seconds later.

"Should be a good stream guys, it'll just be Lando freaking out the whole time." You teased, gently nudging his side with your elbow. An eye roll was all you got from him. "Oh come on you know I love you."

You could see the downturned corners of his mouth start to slowly turn upward as he tried to fight the smile that was wanting to break free. A slight blush had formed on his cheeks as the smile you loved so dearly spread across his face. You two, even before getting together, always told one another you loved them. So it was truly no big deal, you had done it in public, it wasn't a foreign concept. But for some reason the chat was going ballistic over it tonight.

user1: "friends" my ass

user2: try not to smile like an idiot when your "best friend" tells you they love you challenge. level impossible for lando

user3: i too would be a smiling blushing mess if Y/N told me she loved me

user4: max is third wheeling tonight i see.

You just laughed and shook your head. At least people were being nice and it seemed like they liked the idea of the two of you being together.

While you waited for the food to arrive you three answered some questions and chatted about random things, even recalling some funny memories between the three of you. Just as you were in the middle of a funny story that involved Lando and two birds there was a knock on the door.

Seconds later there was an array of takeout containers in front of you, mouth watering as you wasted no time in digging in. Lando on the other hand sat there with his spring rolls, trying to ignore the pieces of raw fish that were inches away from him.

"You wanna try? I got a California roll for you just incase you were feeling adventurous." You asked Lando, a piece tucked between your chopsticks as you held it up towards him. Furiously shaking his head no, he stuffed his mouth with a bite of spring roll. "It's like a starter roll for sushi newbies, can't even tell that there is crab in it. I promise."

"I can tell believe me. Remember when you had me try crab rangoons?" Yes, you did remember it because he was gagging after the first bite.

"Fine. More for me and Max." You popped the piece of sushi into your mouth, accepting that he was never going to like seafood or anything seafood adjacent.

As Lando watched you eat a piece that had a huge thing of raw fish on top his face twisted in disgust. At the same time you glanced over at him, wanting to ask him how his spring rolls were. But the words that came out of his mouth first erased any thought about spring rolls.

"Just so you know I am not kissing you for at least 24 hours."

Lando hadn't even realized he had said that out loud until Max started choking on his piece of sushi. The realization of what he had just said and what he had just done came washing over him. His cheeks turning crimson as he made eye contact with your wide eyes, the same crimson color painted across your cheeks.

"I'm sorry. Why would you be kissing Y/N?" Max's cheeks were red too, but his was from choking, not exposing his relationship on stream.

Lando and you having not broken eye contact simply shrugged at one another, remembering your conversation about no back peddling, no trying to save your asses anymore. So if the universe wanted your relationship to be public over Lando being grossed out over sushi, then so be it.

The both of you looked over at Max, sheepish grins plastered across your faces. "Surprise!" You said meekly.

Max's eyes flickered back and forth between his two friends, trying to figure out if this was some prank or if what he had suspected for years had finally come true. Lando's hand reaching out for yours under the table caught his gaze and in that moment Max knew it was true. "I knew it! I fucking knew it! Finally, I mean I was about ready to set you two down and force you to be together." Max had jumped up from his seat, excitement overtaking him. "How long?"

"Around seven months." Lando mumbled.

Max's eyes widened a shocked look on his face. "You've kept it from everyone for seven months?"

Lando muted the stream as you and him explained everything to Max, still wanting to keep some things private. Knowing surely Max's reactions to what you guys were telling him would be haunting him for years to come.

Meanwhile the chat was going insane.

user1: holy shit!!

user2: i mean are we surprised. they've been married in my head for years.

user3: 2022 mukbang found dead. 2024 mukbang you will always be famous

user4: the fact they even kept it a secret from their friends... guess that works when you've acted like you were together for years..

user5: need me a love like lando and y/n

user6: the way this is such a y/n and lando way for them to expose their relationship lmfao.

user7: wait... so this means y/n is off the market? lando norris can you fight?

You would have never thought this is how you would announce that you guys were together. But somehow it made sense for the two of you in your own weird way. One thing you did know was that the chat was right. 2024 mukbang stream will always be famous.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"We need to talk about yesterday Lan."

"Yeah I guess we do."

You removed your head from his chest, choosing to sit up and face him. "It's just that last night was a little crazy and then," your eyes glanced over to the trail of clothes on the floor "it got even crazier when we got home. We never actually discussed how we feel about us being public now."

Lando's hands reached out for yours, fingers interlacing. "Well let me just say I'm sorry for having a brain and mouth that don't communicate sometimes. But I don't regret saying it. Like we have discussed, clearly it was meant to happen in that moment, even as unserious as it was. Yes, some things are gonna be different, people are gonna pry and feel entitled to our business, but that doesn't change how I feel about you. I love you and honestly I'm glad I can hold your hand in public now." He pulled your smiling face closer to his, a matching grin plastered on his. "And if I feel like it, I'll kiss you in public too!"

He smashed his lips onto yours as you laughed into the kiss. His hands started to roam your body and before it could go any further you pulled away. "As long as I've got you by my side I think everything will be alright." Your hand caressed his face, his stubble tickling your hand. "I love you so much, never forget that Norris."

"I won't."

Later that day the two of you decided to both make a post on Instagram to officially announce your relationship, with the most unserious captions.

y/insta: finally got my kiss ♡ (after i brushed my teeth)

landonorris: i love you ♡ (but not your love for sushi)

[beloveds-embrace]

(Poly 141 x farmer reader: John gets dishonorably discharged, and finds a new purpose in accepting your farm job advertisement, and the rest of the taskforce task force slowly mould themselves into your life

This was inspired by @devil-in-hiding’s wonderful, amazing On the Run series! Make sure to send her and the fic so, so much love! 💕💞💕 truthfully, this isn’t much and it definitely didn’t turn out the way I hoped it would, but I still hope it’ll be enjoyable <33)

The creak of old wood and the faint hum of bees in the garden welcomed John as he stepped onto the porch of the small farmhouse. His boots, scuffed and caked with dried mud, felt heavier than ever, broad shoulders sagging under the invisible weight he carried. The sharp scent of freshly tilled earth and blooming wildflowers should have been a comfort, but John barely noticed it among all the thoughts swirling within his head.

It had been weeks since the dishonorable discharge (as if he’d ever leave his own men behind. As if.) , weeks of wandering aimlessly, a hollow shell of himself. The military had been his life, his purpose, and to be stripped of it so publicly left him untethered. The scars he’d accumulated over decades of service seemed trivial compared to this- the one wound he couldn’t bandage, couldn't let heal so it could turn to a forgotten scab.

The farm job advertisement he’d found on the bulletin board of a dingy diner while aimlessly driving had been a last-ditch effort. He needed something- anything- to keep his hands busy and his mind from spiraling.

And now here he was, standing at your door.

When you answered, he was struck silent for a moment. You weren’t what he had expected. A soft curve of a smile greeted him, paired with eyes that seemed to hold the warmth of the sun itself. Your frame was wrapped in a well-worn but clean dress, your body curvy and full in a way that instantly set you apart from the wiry, hardened edges of his old world. There was something disarming about the way you stood there, your hands dusted with flour, your hair slightly mussed from whatever you’d been working on before he arrived.

You were what he’d worked so hard to protect. To keep from seeing the horrors that were kept hidden from the larger public.

“You must be John Price,” you said, your voice soft but firm, like the lull of rain against a tin roof. You offered him a hand, strong but gentle, calloused with years of hardwork. “I’m glad you came. I’ve been needing some help around here.”

John nodded stiffly, his voice rasping from disuse. “Happy to help.” He said simply, though the words felt foreign in his mouth.

You studied him for a moment, taking in the set of his jaw and the way his blue eyes seemed darker than they should have been. You didn’t press, didn’t ask why he was here or what had brought him to your quiet corner of the world. Instead, you gestured for him to follow you as you began pointing out the work that needed doing.

The farm was modest but well-kept, with rolling fields of golden wheat and neat rows of vegetables that hinted at how hard you worked to keep everything running. Your tone shifted as you explained things, clear and confident as you outlined his responsibilities- though you had those written in the ad as well, and so he knew what to expect. There was no hesitation in the way you moved, and John found himself admiring the way your body seemed made for this life- strong and soft, with a natural grace that made him feel clumsy in comparison. A foreign feeling to him.

The work was grueling, but John threw himself into it with a determination that surprised even him. Fences were mended, fields were tilled, and hay was hauled, the strain in his muscles a welcome distraction from the heaviness in his chest, the daily routine providing a purpose he’d been searching for. You worked alongside him every day, your hands as dirty as his by the end of it. You didn’t shy away from the harder tasks, your body bending and lifting with an ease that left him stealing glances when you weren’t looking.

It didn’t take long for you to notice the cracks in him, though. The way his eyes seemed haunted in the quieter moments, or how he would pause, his hands clenching into fists as if fighting off a memory. He wasn’t sleeping well- you could tell by the dark circles under his eyes and the way he moved in the mornings, sluggish and stiff, gratefully accepting the tea you’d make. He wouldn’t talk about it, but you saw the weight he carried, and it broke something in you.

You began helping him in your own quiet way. A warm, full plate of food at the end of a long day, a soft blanket folded neatly on the porch swing when you knew he’d sit there at night. You didn’t pry, but you’d offer him small comforts, like the way you’d linger for a moment longer when handing him a glass of water, letting your fingers brush his.

“You’re doing good work here, John,” you told him one evening as you set a plate of stew in front of him. Your voice was gentle, though it left no room for argument. “Thank you. I’m glad it was you who came by.”

He grunted in response, but the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He appreciated your kindness, though he didn’t know how to express it. He couldn’t shake the way you made him feel- not just useful, but seen.

The first visitor arrived a few weeks later, just as you were finishing up the morning chores. Simon- whom John introduced as Ghost, military callsigns were strange to you- was as imposing as his name suggested, his tall frame and masked face almost startling you when you turned the corner of the barn.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, low and gravelly. His dark eyes studied you carefully, as if trying to assess whether you were friend or foe. “Heard John was here. Wanted to check on him.”

Simon stayed, though he didn’t say why and you didn’t ask. At first, it seemed like he was just there to make sure John was alright, but soon enough, he was pitching in, fixing broken tools and hauling heavy loads with an ease that belied his quiet nature. He was efficient and methodical, and your german shepherd dog, Riley, adored him from the get-go.

You noticed the way he watched you, his gaze lingering when you didn’t think he’d notice. Simon had a way of positioning himself near you, as if he could ward off any harm just by being close. He’d take over heavy tasks without you asking, broad shoulders and strong hands making easy work of things that left you breathless when John was busy doing something else.

The rain brought Kyle “Gaz” Garrick to your doorstep after Simon, his clothes soaked through and his face muted with exhaustion. He knocked once, and when you opened the door, his lopsided grin and the sparkle in his brown eyes immediately disarmed you.

“You must be the saint putting up with Price,” he’d joked, though his voice was warm as you fluttered and flitted about to bring him some towels, warm food and a chance to warm up. “Mind if I dry off before I drown?”

Kyle brought a lightness to the farm that you hadn’t even known had been missing, his laughter and teasing filling the air like birdsong. He quickly took to the work, his lean frame surprisingly strong as he helped with everything from repairing the chicken coop to plowing the fields. But you caught the way his eyes softened whenever he looked at you, his smile lingering when you were near, and especially bright whenever you’d poke back at him.

“You sure you’re not too soft for this kind of work, Garrick?” you teased after he groaned about the weight of a hay bale, hands on your hips.

“Soft?” he shot back, flexing an arm, and then he winked at you. “These are prime muscles, love. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you keep sneakin’ looks.”

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks warmed at the accusation, and Kyle smirked.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish arrived with the same energy as a summer storm, his laughter echoing through the fields before you even saw him. “Hope you’ve got room for one more!” he declared, his broad grin making you smile despite yourself.

Johnny was impossible to ignore, his enthusiasm infectious. He worked tirelessly, his hands calloused but gentle as he helped. He had a way of making you laugh, his jokes and compliments leaving your cheeks warm more often than not.

He immediately took to helping you with the animals especially, affectionately naming every goat and chicken, and teasing you about how they seemed to follow you everywhere.

“It’s because they know a good soul when they see one.” he said one evening, brushing hay from your hair. His fingers lingered a second too long before he pulled back, and you pretended your smile wasn’t bashful and your heart wasn’t thudding faster than baby goats running to drink their milk bottles.

The four of them fell into an easy rhythm just like that, their camaraderie seamless, and you truly understood just how close of a unit they must have been.

But what you didn’t notice was the way they watched over you. Whether it was John stepping in to take a heavy load from your hands or Simon silently following you to make sure you were safe, they all seemed to share an unspoken agreement to protect you.

And then there was the way they looked at you- not just with admiration, but with something deeper. John admired the way you carried yourself, your curves soft yet strong, a quiet confidence in every step. Simon found himself drawn to your steadiness, your calm presence soothing the chaos in his mind. Kyle loved your kindness, the way you always seemed to know what they needed without asking. And Johnny? Johnny adored everything about you, from your laugh to the way your body moved with an effortless grace.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you all sat on the porch, the scent of freshly cut hay hanging in the air.

“You’ve all been such a big help,” you said, your voice soft and happy as you looked at them, Riley curled near your feet. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

John’s eyes met Simon’s, and Kyle and Johnny exchanged a glance.

“We’re not going anywhere,” John said finally, his voice steady. “Not if you’ll have us.”

You smiled, a warmth spreading through your chest as you looked out at the fields.

You had… truly never expected your precious little farm to become such a sanctuary for others as it was for you, but you were glad. It meant you were doing something right.

Something very right, going by the way you caught them looking at you.

At first, you hadn’t thought much of it. You were used to glances- it came with being a little softer, a little curvier than most women. People always seemed to look a little longer than they needed to, whether out of judgment or admiration, though you’d long since stopped trying to figure out which.

But this? This was different.

John’s gaze lingered when he thought you wouldn’t notice, sharp blue eyes tracing the curve of your hips and the swell of your thighs as you bent to collect eggs or reached up to pull a stubborn weed. When your skirts brushed your legs in the breeze, you swore you saw his jaw tighten, the flicker of something restrained in his expression before he turned back to whatever task he’d assigned himself for the day.

Simon was harder to read, but not impossible. He was quiet, his eyes shadowed under the brim of his cap or the mask he still occasionally wore out of habit, but there was a weight to the way he watched you. He never let you out of his sight if he could help it, always a step behind you when you carried something too heavy, his broad frame so steady and reliable it made your breath catch sometimes. When your hands brushed- accidentally, at first- he didn’t pull away quickly like most men would. Instead, he lingered just long enough for you to notice, just long enough to make you wonder how it would feel to have his fingers dig into your softness.

Kyle was far less subtle. He flirted openly, grinning whenever he managed to make you blush, which was often. He’d find any excuse to compliment you- how strong you were, how beautiful your smile was, how lovely your hair looked in the sunlight. It was playful at first, but then came the moments when his teasing turned quiet, almost tender, like when he brushed dirt off your cheek or tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His hands always hovered, careful but close enough to leave you wondering if he’d reach for you properly if you just gave him the smallest sign.

And Johnny? Johnny was a walking storm of affection. He wasn’t shy about how much he adored you. From the way he complimented your cooking- “I swear, love, you’re a magician in that kitchen”- to how he always seemed to find a reason to be near you, even when he wasn’t working. He’d lean against the doorframe, arms crossed and a crooked grin on his face as he watched you knead dough or arrange flowers in a vase. And then there were the touches- small, fleeting things, like his hand on the small of your back as he passed by or the way his fingers grazed yours when he handed you tools.

You’d been blind to it at first, convincing yourself it was just gratitude for the work, for the meals, for the home you’d offered them. But as the days stretched into weeks and their gazes grew heavier, their presence closer, it became harder and harder to ignore the truth.

They admired you.

Not just as a caretaker or a friend, but as something more- something deeper.

It was there in the way John’s voice softened when he spoke to you, the way Simon’s posture shifted when anyone unfamiliar stepped onto the property, putting himself between you and whatever potential threat he saw. It was in the way Kyle’s jokes always seemed to circle back to how lovely you looked doing even the simplest things, and the way Johnny’s laughter died in his throat whenever you smiled at him just a little too long.

And the realization left you flustered- unsure of what to do with the warmth that bloomed in your chest whenever they lingered too close or brushed against you without meaning to.

They all cared for you, and in a way that went far beyond just gratitude.

The knowledge sent your heart racing whenever one of them looked at you like that- like you were something precious, something worth protecting. Like you were worth staying for.

And maybe- just maybe- you were ready to let them.

[ellieputellas]

healing process | alexia putellas x reader

You headed to Barcelona for a gap year, hoping to heal from a messy breakup. What you didn’t expect was to find yourself entangled in an even more complicated romance with the captivating, 30-year-old footballer who lived just down the hall. | wc: 21k+

tags: age gap, collegestudent!reader, mostly angst, some smut, next-door neighbors, fluff in the start, drama,

contains: femme!reader, unrealistic football season schedule, strap r!receiving, fingering r!receiving, dirty talk, drunk sex, cunnilingus r!receiving+a!receiving, toxic situationship, love triangle (kinda but not really), cursing, use of pet names, might have some errors and typos

masterlist ♡ please reblog this fic if you enjoyed it! please do not repost this anywhere else!

⋆˙⟡♡ After suffering a rough break-up with your high school sweetheart and ex-girlfriend of 6 years, you decided that what you needed most was a gap year in a foreign country. So, you packed your essentials and booked a one-way ticket to Barcelona.

⋆˙⟡♡ You lived with your rich aunt who worked as a doctor in Barcelona. She kindly agreed to give you lodging, three meals a day, and the occasional pocket money in exchange for helping her keep the house tidy and walking the dogs, which wasn't much work for you anyway.

⋆˙⟡♡ "Warm day out," You said to your aunt's golden retriever, Ruby. "Let's make the most of it and find me a new girlfriend." You figured that today was a good idea to get dolled up, wear a sundress, and just pass by the nearby university with the cutest dog in the world. Ruby would catch the attention of all the cute college girls and then, you'd reel them in with a few eyelash bats.

That would be the perfect way of getting a meet cute. You thought to yourself.

⋆˙⟡♡ You got dressed, putting on a teasingly short white sundress and a pair of ballet flats. You brushed your hair and applied a bit of make-up. You were determined to get that meet-cute and find someone to help you forget about your girlfriend.

The easiest way getting over an ex was getting under someone, your best friend always said. You always rolled your eyes at her but now, you couldn't help but feel that she might have been right. 

Cause here you were in one of the most beautiful cities in the world and all you could think about was your stupid ex. You needed to do something about it and quick.

⋆˙⟡♡ You put on Ruby's leash and cheerfully walked out of your aunt's apartment unit, determined to be all cutesy until a girl approaches you.

It seemed Ruby had the same idea, because as soon as you stepped into the hallway, she spotted a tiny Pomeranian across the hallway, and that was all it took. Without warning, Ruby darted toward the dog, pulling you forward as you tried to hold on to the leash. Before you could even process, you were flat on your face.

You yelped as you fell, the sound catching the attention of the tiny dog’s owner. You winced as your body slammed into the floor, feeling pained by the impact. But, nothing was more painful than the embarrassment that followed. 

“Ui, guapa, estàs bé?” The voice called out, the sound of rushing footsteps getting closer. “Aquest gos teu és fort, eh?”

You groaned as you tried to push yourself up, but both dogs had already zeroed in on you, sniffing your head as you attempted to sit up. This definitely isn't romance movie, meet-cute material.

As you finally settled on your butt, trying to regain your composure, the other girl chuckled, saying something in a language you couldn’t quite place. You looked up, and everything around you seemed to blur.

She was, without question, the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen.

Her blonde hair framed her face perfectly, and her sun-kissed skin accentuated her cheekbones. Her eyes were a warm hazel that seemed to glimmer in the soft light. You blinked, stunned by how gorgeous she looked.

“Uh, I don’t speak, um…” You stammered, struggling to find words in the face of such beauty. You could feel your face warm up.

She chuckled, her smile practically glowing. “You must’ve hit your head, yeah?”

You snapped back into reality and laughed awkwardly. “Oh, yeah, uh, I fell.” You winced internally. Why was I telling her that? She literally witnessed it all play out.

The girl laughed too, her voice light and warm. "Hmm," She bit her lip. Unbeknownst to you, she was also checking you out, glancing at your eyes and lips. And the sundress... she always loved seeing girls in short sundresses. "Why don't you come over and I'll help you ice that head, yeah?"

You just nodded stupidly cause even if you were still filled with embarrassment, there was no way you were passing up the opportunity to get to know this gorgeous Blonde.

⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia helped you up, holding your arm as she guided you towards her place. You felt intimidated by her strong presence. She just seemed like the kind of person who seemed so sure of themselves. Even the way she said her own name when she introduced herself was so sexy. It didn't take you long to be enamored by her. In fact, all it took was the walk from where you fell to her door.

⋆˙⟡♡ As soon as you stepped inside her home, you got an immediate sense of who Alexia was. She guided you to the living room, and as you sat down, you couldn’t help but notice the details of the space —the warmth of the interiors, the photos framed on the walls, the trophies displayed proudly, the personal touches in every corner. It was clear that she was someone with impeccable taste and a meticulous eye for detail.

"Trophies?" You asked as you settled down on the couch with Ruby who was too distracted sniffing the pomeranian's butt.

Alexia responded as her expression lightened up. "Ah, yes, I am a footballer."

You nodded and hummed, impressed. "Like, for fun?"

Alexia chuckled as she got behind her kitchen counter, wrapping some ice cubes in a kitchen towel. "Yes, for fun..." She answered. "And for work. I play professionally."

"Oh," You responded, mildly embarrassed that you didn't recognize her. "Sorry, I don't watch much soccer."

Alexia settled next to you on the couch, leaning in to gently place the ice against your head, on the nonexistent bump. (She had no clue you didn't actually hit your head and was just too shy and intimidated to correct her when she thought you did.)

“Here?” she asked, her voice soft as she pressed the ice towel on your forehead.

You nodded, biting your lip as she leaned closer. She was so close you could feel the warmth of her body, the gentle touch of her hand, and smell the subtle scent of her perfume. It made your pulse quicken, and you tried not to let your thoughts wander.

“Hmm,” she hummed, locking eyes with you as she tried to make conversation. “You're American, yes?"

“Yeah… is it obvious?” you blushed, feeling suddenly self-conscious by the fact that she was suddenly getting to know you.

She chuckled. “Well, first, you called it soccer and not football. And… you don’t speak Catalan or Spanish.” She responded as she brushed away the stray hairs sticking to your forehead. "The accent too, of course. It's cute."

You felt your cheeks flush even more. She was so observant, and you couldn’t help but feel a little shy under her gaze. 

She leaned back a little, giving you some space as she continued, “So, what is an American girl like you doing in Barcelona?"

You hesitated for a moment before answering. “Oh, I'm taking a gap year… from college.” You said, hesitating to mention the whole thing with your ex. "Stress from school and stuff, y'know how it is."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Hmm, still in school." She mused, under her breath. "And how old are you?”

“Uh… 22,” you stammered, suddenly nervous.

Alexia hummed thoughtfully, her lips curling into a small smile. “So young,” she muttered under her breath. “Too young, actually.”

You blinked, unsure if you heard that right. You couldn't help but jump to conclusions. Pretty older women should never make statements like that, you thought to yourself as you grew even more flustered. “What do you mean?”

Alexia grinned slyly. “I just mean... I’m old enough to know better than to wear a short sundress with just a pair of lacey pink panties underneath while walking a gigantic dog.” She recounted with a chuckle.

You grew tomato red, realizing just how embarrassing her first impression of you was. You felt the warmth spread across your cheeks and then to your body. You wished the floor would have swallowed you whole.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry you had to see that." You stammered, tripping over your own words.

She chuckled. "Why sorry?" 

Your heart skipped a beat as she said it with a barely detectable mischievous glint in her eyes. You blinked in shock. "Uh, uhm, just cause... public indecency?"

Alexia laughed. "You're funny." She leaned in close again to continue icing your head. "Is the ice helping or not at all?"

You bit your lip as you gazed at her raised arms, the tattoo on the underside of it, the muscles. As she moved closer to you, the more you got a whiff of her intoxicating scent and the more you get to see the beautiful details of her face.

"Oh, it's helping a lot."

⋆˙⟡♡ Ever since you met Alexia and learned that she lived just across the hall from your aunt, you found yourself walking Ruby more often than ever. What started as a casual routine soon turned into an excuse to see her, which was successful since you always ended up running into her.

⋆˙⟡♡ “Since you’re always walking Ruby, we should go together. It would be good for Nala to have a friend.” Alexia said as you were heading back to your apartment on one of the times you coincidentally bumped into her. “I should give you my number so you can text me whenever you and Ruby are out.” “Oh, sure, sure.” You said trying to play it cool when you were really geeking out on the inside. You handed over your phone to Alexia who typed her number into your phone.

She bit her lip as she returned it. “Text me as soon as you get home so I can save your number, okay?” She smiled at you. “See you soon, guapa.”

⋆˙⟡♡ Naturally, you texted Alexia every day that you would be walking Ruby. Initially, you were afraid your crush on her would be so obvious but even if it was, Alexia didn’t seem to mind as she never missed a day with you.

⋆˙⟡♡ When you passed by cute cafés during your dog walks, she'd insist on buying you a drink while chatting you up about college life or whatever was piquing your interest that day. It was rare that she talked about herself, which you found hard to believe considering that she had so many achievements.

⋆˙⟡♡ The daily walks weren’t enough for you. You had to see her more but you were afraid that she’d view you as some kid who always begged to hang out. So, you tried to be a bit more subtle by trying to bump into her every chance you got. ⋆˙⟡♡ There wasn't a single dirty sock in your aunt's apartment since you went to the laundromat every chance you got just to bump into Alexia. And when you did, she was always courteous and proper. She never let you carry your own bag of laundry up to your floor even when you insisted you could handle it. She always paid for your laundry too. Even when you would try to tell her that your aunt left you more than enough money for errands, she’d laugh and say something along the lines of “just pocket it and let me pay” or “it’s just a few euros, no big deal.”

⋆˙⟡♡ A couple of times, you joined her for her grocery run to the supermarket when all you really needed was a singular tube of toothpaste or a small bag of tomatoes. She’d tell you all the best ingredients to buy for certain dishes, even if you’ve told her multiple times all you knew how to cook were box mix pancakes and fried rice. And without failure, she would invite you over to her house after your grocery trip to show you how to cook a certain dish but all you’d do is admire how graciously she worked in the kitchen

⋆˙⟡♡ Each and every single time you were together, Alexia was always friendly, polite — always keeping a careful distance. But somehow, in every encounter, there was that one fleeting touch, one single moment, one look that just left you completely hooked.

Some days, it would be her hand lingering a moment too long on the small of your back or the side of your waist or sometimes even on your thigh, just long enough to send a shiver down your spine. Other times, it was the microglances—the quick, almost imperceptible glances she would steal toward your lips before quickly looking away. Occasionally, there were comments about your age, your looks, how she loved being around you — innocent enough on the surface, but with an undertone that made you question her intentions in saying them. 

If you weren’t paying attention, you would have missed it entirely. But you always were. Every word she said, every glance, every touch was amplified and engraved in your mind. With Alexia, you were no longer just present—you were consumed. And you couldn’t get enough.

⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia had insisted you stay for a dinner and movie after you helped her unpack the groceries on her latest supermarket run, which you excitedly agreed to.

After dinner, you both settled onto the couch. She mentioned that a teammate had recommended the movie, but neither of you had any clue what it was about. 

Soon enough, you realized it was a horror movie—a genre you weren’t exactly thrilled about, especially with how easily you jumped at every little thing. But you two were already invested in the story to change it to something else. 

⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia quickly regretted trusting Patri's recommendation blindly. This definitely wasn’t the vibe she’d intended, but she decided to make the most of it.

Noticing your shivers, she glanced over. “Cold?”

You nodded, and she laughed softly, heading to her bedroom to grab a comforter. She set it over both of you, creating a cozy little nest on the couch.

As the suspense built, you found yourself sinking deeper into the blanket, resisting the urge to cover your eyes as things got scarier. Alexia chuckled, nudging you. “You’re such a baby,” she teased.

“This doesn’t scare you?” you asked, wide-eyed.

She shrugged. "No, not really, I get shocked sometimes but it's nothing too intense for me." She smiled at you. "And I guess, this is too scary for a little kid like you, huh?"

You pouted at her teasing. "Hey! You don't get to tease me when you made me watch a scary movie."

She chuckled, putting her hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, no more teasing." She said. "If you're that scared, why don't you snuggle up here? I promise I don't bite."

You bit your lip and felt your heart beat faster. You nodded and scooted closer to her. Alexia put her arm around you as you rested your head on her chest.

There was a warmth to it, a sense of comfort that felt almost… domestic. Sitting there, wrapped in her arms after a casual evening of groceries and a shared meal, you felt the faint illusion of something more — something almost relationship-like.

Alexia never made any deliberate and overt actions to show you that she was interested in you in that manner but the fact that you two were hanging out basically every day, doing all these domestic errands, and now, cuddling... you couldn't help but delude yourself that maybe there could be something there. It had to mean something.

A few moments later, Alexia broke the silence. “Cariño, you still awake?” The endearment made your heart skip a beat. She's used it on you a few times before but without failure, it always made you flush.

You blinked and looked up at her, taking note of the proximity between the two of you. Her eyes were soft and warm as they looked back at you. "Yeah, I'm just comfy.” You hummed, comfortably. “Being near you helped me be less scared honestly.”

Alexia chuckled. You rested your head on her chest again and she started brushing your hair with her fingertips. It was so easy to get lost in how good it felt, but a small voice in the back of your mind warned that maybe this closeness meant nothing to her. Maybe she was like this with all her friends.

"You know you remind me of my teammate, Jana." Alexia suddenly said in the middle of the movie. "She's also around your age and whenever we watched scary movies, she'd cling on to me exactly like this."

It felt like confirmation of your own worries. You hummed in response, not sure what to say. Great, so I guess she is like this with all her friends.

"You should meet her. You'd get along. She's sweet." She continued.

You nodded. "Does she hang out here a lot?" You asked, trying to sound unaffected by the thought of someone else spending this much time with this woman you were crushing hard on.

"Yes, but more so when she was newer to the team." Alexia shared. "She's practically like my little sister so I felt like I had to take care of her. I'd always have her and my other younger teammates hang out here and watch movies during our downtimes. Sometimes, I feel like I raised them."

You just nodded again. You didn't know what was worse – your initial thought that maybe Alexia was interested in someone else or the fact that she was comparing you to someone she thought of as her little sister.

⋆˙⟡♡ “Had to take a late shift at the hospital. I’ll be home in the morning,” read the text from your aunt. You bit your lip, feeling a pang of unease at the thought of being alone in her big apartment all night after watching a scary movie.

Sure, Ruby would be there, but that dog was more of a scaredy cat than you were. If anything, she’d probably push you toward a demon just to save herself.

"You good?" Alexia asked as she noticed you still staring at your phone.

"Yeah, my aunt took another shift at the hospital so I'd be all alone at the apartment." Being home alone after watching Daniel Radcliffe get tormented by some vengeful ghost in a house all by himself was not exactly ideal.

Alexia raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you won’t be alone.” Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “You’ll be with the woman in black.”

“Alexia!” You playfully smacked her as she laughed. “Don’t joke like that—I’m actually terrified.”

“I’m just teasing,” she said with a smile, her tone softening. “But I won’t let you stay there alone, of course. Spend the night here. I’ll lend you something to wear.”

⋆˙⟡♡ You loved having Alexia's name on you. You took a glance at yourself wearing the old, red jersey you picked out from her cabinet. She told you that the jersey wasn’t exactly the most comfortable thing to sleep in but you insisted. What other chance would you get to snuggle up in a football superstar’s jersey.

"I still cannot believe you played for your country in the World Cup," You shared out loud. "When you first told me you played soccer, I genuinely thought you meant like casually or like not to that level."

Alexia chuckled, towel-drying her hair after coming out of the shower. “Didn’t want to brag, but… yes, I’ve represented the country,” she replied with a modest grin.

After finishing up, she climbed into bed and raised an eyebrow at you. “Are you planning to spend all night admiring yourself in my kit?” she teased, watching you look at yourself in the mirror.

You chuckled and made your way to her bed. You crawled under the covers and settled with a good distance between you and Alexia. She must have noticed because she commented. "Why are you so far? Are you leaving room for the woman in black?"

You grabbed a pillow and playfully smacked her. “Alexia, don’t make jokes about that! I’m still freaked out from that movie.”

“Alright, alright, no more ghost jokes,” she laughed. “But come closer; I don’t want you rolling off the bed.”

You bit your lip as you scooted toward her, feeling the warmth of her body beside you. Turning onto your side, you found yourself facing her, and she mirrored you, her eyes soft.

"Will I ever get to watch you play?" You asked in a soft voice.

Alexia nodded. "Of course, once the season starts, I'll have a ticket for you in every game." She smiled. "When are you leaving Barcelona again?"

You hummed in thought. "Well, since I plan to re-enroll in the next year, I have to be home before September next year."

Alexia nodded. "Well, that just means you get to watch me play a lot of games before you go home." She smiled warmly at you. "I would love to see you there in the crowd in a Barcelona jersey. You'd be so cute in blaugrana."

You blushed and smiled at the thought of it. "Is it okay if I don't know a thing about football?"

Alexia chuckled. “All you need to know is how to yell my name.” Her voice was laced with drowsiness. "I'd just love to have you there cheering for me. Promise that you'll cheer for me?"

You blushed, her words sending a thrill through you. "Of course, Alexia. I'll be the loudest one in the crowd." You promised.

Alexia smiled at your words as her eyes grew heavy.

You wanted so badly to tell her how much she made you feel—how the smallest gestures, the small teasing comments, and the way she looked at you left you craving more. You wanted to tell her how much you liked spending time with her and being around her. And, god, the thought of being this close to her in bed…

But you held back. Despite how sweet and attentive Alexia was, she never made her intentions clear. Was she spending time with you because she liked you, or did she just see you as a little sister figure? You couldn’t tell and you weren't willing to risk anything just yet.

Soon, Alexia's eyes began to flutter with drowsiness, and she drifted off to sleep. Your heart pounded, an ache in your chest as you resisted the urge to reach out and trace her face with your fingertips. But you stopped yourself, thinking it would be too intimate, too personal.

All you could do was watch her until sleep claimed you too.

⋆˙⟡♡ "So, tell me which girl in this damn apartment building are you playing hooky with?" Your aunt teasingly berated you over dinner. It's been a while since your aunt and you had dinner together with all the time she was spending working at the hospital and all that time you were spending with Alexia.

Your eyes widened. "Why would you think that?"

Your aunt hummed. "Well, cause just over a month ago, you spent most of the time whining to me about your fugly ex but now, you're doing the laundry every fucking day. You're walking Ruby so much that she's grown gigantic calf muscles. You’re running errands like a woman possessed, picking up random things from the supermarket.” She recounted. "Plus, the fact that you're doing all these errands in short sundresses and with blush and mascara..."

You immediately blushed, not expecting her to be so perceptive. “Why would you automatically assume I’m flirting with someone? I just… made a friend.” You said. It wasn’t exactly a lie. As much as you crush on Alexia, you never really made a move… and neither did she.

Your aunt hummed with satisfaction, clearly delighted by your reaction. “Well, tell me about your friend then! I’m not your mom—I won’t lecture you, but I am rooting for you. In fact, I’m all for hearing about your sex life!”

You threw your head back in laughter, amused by your aunt’s frankness. She joined you, but her curiosity didn’t seem to waver.

“I swear, I’m not interested in anyone like that." You tried to brush it off casually, but your aunt’s sharp eyes didn’t miss a thing. “I’m just learning a lot about the city with this lady from our building. She took me to some cafés and bakeries nearby. I can pick up some of these lovely croissants for you if you’d like.”

Your aunt hummed and raised an eyebrow, ignoring your lame attempt at deflecting the topic. "Well, I just gotta tell you that there are crazy folks living in this complex and I just want to make sure you're not falling for some rich wackjob."

You rolled your eyes in amusement. "Yeah, yeah, I'm pretty sure you're the only crazy, rich person here, Auntie.” You joked back at her.

She feigned offense, dramatically clutching her chest. “Absolutely not! These people make me look sane. Like, Alvaro down the hall? He has a creepy puppet collection worth thousands of euros! And that lady in apartment 309? Apparently, she nearly went to jail because she tried to, uh, cut off her husband’s—well, you get the picture.”

Your aunt went on and on listing down the quirks of the people who lived in your building. 

Some of them were a tad weird but not really anything of concern. ("I heard that British girl one floor down is an esthetician and she bedazzles your genitals after she waxes it.") 

Some... well, you just felt your aunt was making up to make you laugh. ("Some guy who lives here once made an offer in the elevator to sniff my feet in exchange for a thousand euros.")

You had a good laugh until a familiar name popped up. "Don't let me get started with that famous football girl on our floor, Alexia or Alexis or whatever. She and her fiancé used to fight so much. Literally, they'd even take it out on each other at the hallway — just yelling and throwing stuff. At some point, someone even called the police."

Your heart stopped. "The police?"

"Well, not the police but like... the building manager, which is basically the same thing to me." She shrugged at her own exaggeration. "I guess they made up or completely split up cause I don't hear fighting down the hall anymore. Either way, thank god."

You nodded, trying to keep your composure. You knew Alexia had past relationships but you didn't know about her being previously engaged; she never liked talking too much about herself, especially her past relationships.

But you couldn’t imagine the Alexia you spent so much time with being involved in a toxic relationship like that. She was always so calm and level-headed. Surely, it must have just been a mistake. Still, a nervous flutter settled in your stomach. 

⋆˙⟡♡ You woke up in the middle of the night to Ruby pawing at you insistently. Blinking, still groggy from sleep, you muttered, "What is it, girl?"

She let out a low whining sound, the same sound she made when she had to poo. You cursed under your breath as you realized you forgot to take her out today for her daily potty.

Your aunt previously told you that the peckish dog only peed and hated pooping in litter boxes. Even when you tried to coax her into it, she refused, so every day, you would take her outside for a poop.

You never usually missed it since she would just do it during your walks with Alexia and Nala. But since Alexia has been busy for a while and couldn't see you, you had no energy to get out of bed.

It's only been a few days since you last saw Alexia yet you were already missing her badly. It also upset you that she didn't even give a reason for her sudden absence, just a curt text telling you she'd be too busy to hang out.

But, being upset over a neighbor's unavailability was no excuse to miss taking Ruby out on her daily poo.

"I'm so sorry, Ruby." You said as you sleepily fumbled out of bed. Throwing on a hoodie, you leashed her up, grabbed the potty pick up kit and headed to the hallway. "Let's go on a quick walk."

The second you stepped out, you heard laughter echoing down the hall. You rubbed your eyes as you looked over to the source of the sound. That's when you saw Alexia stumbling to her door, wearing a fitted, backless black dress, arm-in-arm with a taller girl with dark hair whose arms were covered in tattoos. They were swaying, giggling, obviously drunk.

You couldn't recognize the girl Alexia was with but to be fair, Alexia never talked much about her friends or her dating history. But from what you could observe right now, it was obvious that there was something between the two.

You cursed under your breath as you saw them drunkenly stumble towards Alexia's door. You considered going back inside your aunt's place but just as you tried to, Ruby let out a small bark, as if to tell you to hurry up.

"Alright, alright," You whispered to the demanding dog as you made your way to the elevator —too close to Alexia’s apartment for comfort.

Despite your best attempts at stealth, Ruby was too big and enthusiastic to go unnoticed.

“Espera, espera,” Alexia’s voice rang out as she noticed you, her lips curving into a smile. “¿Ets tu, guapa?”

You could tell from the volume and slur of her voice that she had way too much to drink. You shyly waved but didn't say anything. You prayed the elevator would come faster. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw how close this tall girl was to Alexia, her arm lingering around Alexia’s waist. There was an ease between them, a familiarity that made your stomach twist.

Alexia called out to you one last time, gesturing for you to come over, but you just pointed to Ruby as an excuse and mouthed, “Can’t.” She let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling her eyes before turning back to her door.

Just as she was about the enter her apartment, you heard the tattooed girl ask Alexia who you were. “¿Y esa chica, quién es?”

"Ah, just some clingy kid who hangs around..." Her voice trailed off as the two entered the apartment but it was all you had to hear.

You really were just some kid to her. 

⋆˙⟡♡ You were upset about the whole encounter you had with drunken Alexia for about a week. You shifted your whole errand schedule to avoid her. You started walking Ruby late at night. You did your laundry very early in the morning, too early for anyone to actually get up and wash their clothes. Whenever she texted you, you'd ignore it or give her a curt response, telling her you were too busy or feeling unwell. You basically wanted to avoid Alexia at all costs.

⋆˙⟡♡   On the other hand, your best friend from back home was spam-texting you, pestering you about updating her with your "new, exciting life in Barcelona."

Sadly, you had nothing to update her on. 

What would you even say? Oh, it's great, just started yearning for some thirty-year-old who lives down the hall who might be hooking up with some hot, tall, tattooed vixen who I could never amount to... so now, I'm avoiding her cause I don't want my feelings hurt. So, yeah it's been great!

You didn't want to come back home with stories about how you flew all the way to Barcelona just to be upset over another girl. So, you decided that you've had enough of bedrotting with Ruby all day. You were going out to have fun on a Friday night.

You tried to rewind your mindset to just before you met Alexia — determined to forget a girl by finding another girl to mess around with.

You put on a black leather bralette with a very short skort that showed a sliver of your butt cheeks. You went all out with the make-up and hair. You were determined to get laid tonight... or at the very least, find someone to kiss.

⋆˙⟡♡  That night, you found yourself at a packed lesbian bar. The place was already buzzing when you walked in, but you didn’t mind—it only meant more eyes on you.

You didn’t even need to drink to feel the rush of confidence. The playful glances from the other women were enough to make you feel like the center of attention. You could tell they were eyeing you, sizing you up, and enjoying the sight of a fresh, hot girl in the crowd.

What you didn’t know was that as soon as you made your way to the counter, several girls were already trying to figure out the best way to approach you and offer to buy you a drink.

But it was one girl who beat them to it. She was a brunette with lightly tanned skin, defined eyebrows, and a smile that was radiant and inviting. As soon you approached the counter, she slid in before you, leaning in with that playful, confident grin. “¿Te puedo invitar a un trago?”

You couldn’t help but blush, a sly smile tugging at your lips as you looked her up and down. She was taller than you and wore a casual outfit—just a simple white shirt and pants, but she pulled it off effortlessly. “Did you just ask me in Catalan to buy me a drink?”

The brunette chuckled and shook her head, quickly understanding that you were a foreigner. "Spanish, actually." She extended her hand to introduce herself. "Patri."

You smiled back at the girl and shook her hand. "I'll take that drink, Patri."

⋆˙⟡♡ A few drinks later, you were laughing louder than you intended at all the jokes Patri made, and finding every excuse to touch her whenever you spoke. You were getting more and more tipsy, but you didn’t mind it—this was exactly what you wanted. Tonight was about fun, and you were determined to get what you came for.

“Why is every girl in Barcelona a soccer player?” you asked, laughing a little too loudly when she casually mentioned she played football.

Patri just chuckled, clearly amused by your question. “Football is huge here. A lot of people play it for fun, like, recreationally…” she said, playing it humble. “But I actually play professionally for a decent club."

You raised an eyebrow, your fingers lightly grazing her upper arm as you spoke. “Then I must be lucky to have such a famous football player buying me drinks.”

Tugging at Patri's ego seemed to work because she inched towards you and put a hand on your waist. "Yeah?" The footballer asked.

You batted your eyelashes and bit your lip as you nodded. "Yeah..." You intentionally averted your gaze to her lips, silently daring her to make the first move.

Patri didn’t need any more encouragement. She stepped closer, leaning in to close the gap between you, her lips almost on yours.

“Ey, Patri!”

A groan escaped Patri’s lips as she pulled back, her eyes apologizing before she turned toward the sound of the voice. You turned as well, curiosity piquing when you saw who was interrupting your moment... only to be met by the sight of Alexia.  ⋆˙⟡♡ You should have figured it out yourself that Patri and Alexia were teammates but you were too focused on the goal of flirting that it didn’t even cross your mind. If only you knew, you would have picked any other girl to flirt with.

⋆˙⟡♡ Patri introduced you to her teammates who had just arrived — Mapi, Ingrid, Kika, and of course... Alexia Putellas. They all greeted you warmly, save for Alexia who had a stoic look on her face. She didn't react, didn't make it known to her teammates that she already knew you. She just stayed silent, her jaw clenched.

You got to know all of them. They were all very welcoming and they all seemed proud of Patri for bagging you.  At one point, you caught Mapi whispering to Patri something in Spanish but all you could catch was the part when she said something about how pretty you were. Ingrid also complimented you a lot, even touching the details of your leather outfit. It was an ego boost, for sure, getting all these famous footballers to gush about you.

The entire time, Alexia stood silently, either averting your gaze or ordering more drinks. You decided that if she wasn't going to address you, you weren't going to address her. Two could play at that game.

⋆˙⟡♡ You enjoyed being with Patri — her firm body dancing against yours, the heat of her presence, the way she made you laugh and smile effortlessly. She was hot, confident, and didn't shy away from showing her attraction to you. It was easy to get lost in the moment with her, the music pulsing around you, her hands on your hips as you danced together.

But what turned you on the most was the fact that Alexia was watching you the entire time. From the corner of your eye, you could see her—standing by the bar, drink in hand, watching you with a gaze that was far too intense to be accidental. ⋆˙⟡♡ As the night wore on and the alcohol took hold, Alexia stopped pretending she wasn't watching, her eyes locked on you the entire time you danced with Patri, not caring for any more subtlety. It was intimidating but it also felt like a challenge, as if testing you as to how far you’d go while she was watching.

⋆˙⟡♡ The contrast of it all was so electrifying — Patri's impossible closeness with her body pressed against yours and her hands wandering all over your body, and Alexia standing several feet away from you with eyes that never departed you. 

You had been avoiding her gaze the entire night. It just felt too intense for you to handle but after another tequila shot that Patri so gladly poured down your mouth, you finally gained the courage to lock eyes with her as you pressed your backside against Patri's front, grinding seductively. 

Alexia's stare was firm and unmoving; it was almost unreadable. Anger? Disbelief? Annoyance? Disgust? You had no fucking clue. Her eyes narrowed at you two as Patri spun you around and held you closer to her, practically exchanging breaths. Alexia downed her whiskey as she rolled her eyes, turning around towards the counter to order another.

⋆˙⟡♡ "I just need to have you," Patri whispered drunken sweet nothings into your ears as her hands got busy, mostly gripping your waist and hips.

The two of you had made way to a more private corner where you two could be more intimate and apart from the rowdy dance floor. 

Patri pressed a kiss on the side of your jaw. It was firm enough for you to react but gentle enough to let you know she was testing out the waters. Seeing your reaction, Patri smirked and cursed under her breath as she saw your eyes fluttering under her touch.

⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia watched it all unfold. The alcohol was making her more irritable than she normally was. As soon as she saw Patri plant her lips on you, she felt the jealousy rush through her body. No fucking way, she thought. No fucking way Patri gets to kiss her before I do.

Before you two could proceed any further, Alexia put down her glass and stomped her way to you, not giving a fuck about the people she was bumping and pushing away as she did.

When she got to you, she didn't hesitate. She grabbed your arm and pulled you away from Patri without bothering to say a single word to either of you. Your drunken state couldn't process what was happening immediately. 

"What the fuck?" It was all you could say. You turned desperately to look at Patri who looked just as dumbfounded as you. You tried to halt but Alexia's grip was so strong that even when you tried to stop, she was able to drag your weight.

⋆˙⟡♡ You finally stopped where Alexia's car was parked and you frowned. "I'm not getting in with you, Alexia! You're drunk!" You said in almost a shout. "And I can't drive for shit so we're not going anywhere! I'm going back to Patr—"

Suddenly, Alexia's lips came crashing onto yours, shutting you up. She pressed your body against the cool surface of her car. Her hand made its way to your waist as she kissed you desperately, thirstily. 

It didn't take long for you to reciprocate with your hands snaking to the side of her neck, kissing her as if you wanted to completely devour her. You moaned as you felt Alexia's tongue enter your mouth and as her hand lowered from your waist to your ass. Whatever apprehension or complaint you had from being pulled away from Patri was gone. This kiss was something you've been wanting, craving, needing for weeks

Alexia ended the kiss as abruptly as she started it. She kept one hand on her vehicle and the other on your waist as she pulled away slightly — her eyes piercing yours with an intensely hungry stare. 

"Get in the car." She ordered in a deep, raspy voice and you had no choice but to say yes.

⋆˙⟡♡ You spent the first few minutes silent. You didn't know what to say. You wanted to feel frustrated about her pulling you away from Patri, who had been genuinely nice and accommodating. You wanted to shout at her and tell her off for drunk driving. You just had so much going through your mind that it was becoming static.

"You've been avoiding me," She broke the silence. "Don't try to deny it because I know you have."

You stayed quiet, trying to find a retort but all your mind could fixate on was the fact that she was driving right now. "You're drunk driving."

"Who gives a fuck? We live ten minutes away." She groaned and rolled her eyes. You could see her knuckles turn white as she gripped the wheels tighter with frustration. "See? That's our fucking building complex. You happy?"

You huffed, startled by the out-of-character outburst from the older woman. Alexia was usually so level-headed and calm. You never once saw her this frustrated. Suddenly, you remembered your aunt's short anecdote about Alexia and her fiancé fighting.

Maybe this was that version of Alexia.

⋆˙⟡♡ "Are you just going to keep ignoring me?" Alexia hissed out as you two made your way from the basement parking lot to the apartment elevator.

You stayed silent. Alexia groaned in frustration as she ran a hand through her blonde hair. You were starting to sober up now, not by much but enough to tell that Alexia was absolutely wasted. You could smell the heavy scent of smokey whiskey linger on her breath.

In frustration, once you two got in the elevator, Alexia cornered you. She looked down on you, towering over you. "Do I have to corner you every time I want to talk to you, huh?"

You rolled your eyes. "Why would you wanna talk to me? We're not friends."

Alexia's demeanor went from angry to disappointed. "Then what was all that hanging out everyday about? All that pretending you have to immediately go wash two pairs of pants just so you could be with me and do laundry? Cuddling up to me on the couch? Was that nothing?" She asked with a voice laced with frustration.

You bit your lip and looked down, feeling partly ashamed and upset she had caught up with what you were doing. You knew you were being obvious with making up excuses to see her but you thought that Alexia never seemed to mind... well, until you heard what she said about you that night.

Alexia sighed. Seeing you suddenly get upset just softened her. She put her arms down and instead, gently reached out to you to put a lock of hair behind your ear. The same hand cupped the side of your face. "Look at me."

You slowly and carefully looked up to the taller girl. In this proximity, all you could focus on were the tiny beautiful details on her face — her subtle smile lines around her eyes, the small freckles on her face, the golden specks in her eyes. You wanted to give in so bad but you just felt it was unfair of her to be demanding you explain to her why you've been avoiding her when she hasn't exactly been clear about how she felt about you.

“Please tell me, cariño.” She said in a hushed voice. “Why don’t you want to be around me anymore?”

"Why does it matter that I've been avoiding you?" You muttered in frustration. "I'm just some clingy kid to you, aren't I?"

As if on cue, the doors to the elevator opened to your floor. You gently pushed Alexia aside and walked away. You were barely a step out of the elevator when Alexia grabbed you. She spun you around and her lips were on you again.

Your fists were balled up, ready to protest and push her away. You wanted to demand she be honest with you; you wanted to know why she was being all nice and close to her when you were alone together but calling you "a clingy kid" around some other hot girl.

But your body wanted Alexia more than you wanted clarity. And so, your fists unclenched, your body fell limp in her arms, your mouth parted to allow her to deepen her kiss... and you completely gave in.

⋆˙⟡♡ It felt like Alexia and you were playing a game of who can keep their mouth on the other as you undressed.

You continued to make out as you messily and brashly entered her apartment. She basically slapped the walls blindly to turn on the light switches and just dropped her car keys on the floor. She didn't give a fuck. Alexia was selfish with your kisses and didn't want anything else to take her attention from the way you were kissing her.

But this slow stumbling to her bedroom was not her taste and it was distracting to her. So naturally, the blonde girl put her arms on the back of your legs before lifting you up to carry to her bedroom.

You didn't want to lose this game either. You continued to kiss her as you wrapped your legs around her, holding on to her tightly.

She gently laid you down on her bed before taking off her top, revealing her bare chest. She was so attractive and you wanted to feel every inch of her skin under your fingertips. You bit your lip as you desperately kicked off your shoes before pulling her again towards you, wanting more.

"Fuck, I've wanted to do this for so long." She muttered in between kisses as she pulled your leather skort off. You couldn't get a response out as you were too overstimulated by everything that was happening but the desperation behind your kisses could easily be felt by the older woman without you having to say anything.

Alexia's hands gracefully unzipped your bralette top and shrugged it off your body. She cursed under her breath as she gazed at your breasts, taking them in her hands.

"Fuck, been fantasizing about these perfect tits since I met you." She hummed before taking an erect nipple into her mouth, sucking and licking on it. You moaned out loud and bucked your hips as she continued to pleasure your chest with her mouth.

Alexia held your hips down before pressing two digits against your soaked underwear. She hummed in delight. "Since when was this?"

"Huh?"

She smirked. "I meant, who made you this wet tonight? Me or Patri?"

Apparently, you took too long to answer because she violently pressed two fingers against your soaking, clothed cunt.

"F-fuck, Alexia." You exclaimed as you felt her rub slow but firm circles around your clit. You arched your hips again, desperately wanting to be touched more by Alexia. "I want you inside, please."

Alexia hushed you, keeping a steady yet painfully slow pace. "You think I'd give it away to you so easily after you ignore me and then basically dryhump one of my closest friends in front of me, huh?"

You whimpered, feeling desperate. "Alexia, please, please."

She smirked at the sight of you squirming underneath her, begging to be filled by her. "Then answer me." She ordered.

You felt her press harder, making you moan out again. "Alexia, you did. You made me this wet. Alexia, please." You blubbered out in a pathetic string of desperation. "It was all you. Only you.”

Alexia smiled and leaned into your ear. "Good girl."

With a swift motion, Alexia pushed your panties to the side and began firmly massaging circles against your wet clit. You moaned out loud, feeling yourself warm up in pleasure.

As Alexia quickened her pace and as her mouth found its way back to your hardened nipples, you felt yourself getting close to an orgasm but it felt so unsatisfying without being filled by her. You moaned out. "Alexia, I need you inside please."

You clenched around nothing as Alexia continued to rub against you. You felt your frustration grow. "Alexia, inside please." You whimpered, writhing underneath her.

"Shh, you're so impatient." Alexia scolded. "But since you look so desperate for it..."

Alexia pulled your panties off effortlessly before she let her fingers sink deep into you. You gasped at the sudden thrust of her fingers inside you. She smirked, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head in pleasure. You shut your eyes as you gyrated your hips against her slow-thrusting fingers. You cursed out loud, feeling Alexia carefully curl her fingers to test out your sensitive spots. Her fingers were much longer than yours were and she was making you feel more pleasure than you could ever feel all alone.

Alexia started picking up the pace, thrusting her fingers in and out of you. She cursed when you started moaning out loud and felt your fingers tighten around her two digits. She started to thrust faster, then harder, and now she was curling her fingers with every inward thrust.

She loved watching you undo under her touch. She loved your moans, the feeling of you clenched around her fingers, the way your face contorted in pleasure, the way your boobs bounced with her every thrust... you were a sensory delight to her.

"Alexia, oh my fuck..." You exclaimed as you felt her pound her fingers against you. The sound of your slick and your heavy breathing filled the room as Alexia steadily fucked you to the point of not being able to think about anything else but the feeling of her fingers inside you.

Alexia leaned next to your face and planted small kisses in between catching her breath. "I've wanted to fuck this tight pussy since I saw you." She said against your ear. "You looked so cute in that sundress."

You moaned again, gripping Alexia's bare back. "Alexia, faster, please."

Alexia pressed a kiss against your jaw before opening her mouth to leave sloppy kisses on your neck that you were sure would leave marks in the morning. She picked up the pace even more, making you shout out her name as you felt the pleasure ripple throughout your body. 

"Fuck, I'm so close." You moaned out. "Oh my god."

"Scream my name, cariño." She whispered with heavy pants. 

Then, you felt your orgasm rip through you, leaving you shaking under her. "Alexia!" You shouted out as you let yourself arch your back in the intense pleasure.

Alexia let you ride out your orgasm before slowly pulling out her fingers. She smiled at you warmly before using her thumb to part your lips open. As you did, she stuck her two wet fingers down your mouth. "Suck me dry, cariño."

You enthusiastically sucked on her fingers, making sure to lick and suck all of your cum off of it. The entire time, you made eye contact with Alexia who was biting her lip and cursing under her breath. 

The sight of you taking her long fingers in your warm mouth was making her wet. And, god, the wet sloppy sounds paired with the sensation of your mouth wrapped around them… She cursed under her breath before she pulled her fingers out. You looked at her confused as she made her way to her cabinet, rummaging for something in one of the drawers.

That's when she pulled out a large, transparent dildo attached to a harness. You bit your lip as you watched Alexia put it on her bare body.

Your eyes finally got the chance to admire her more this time. You looked at her muscular figure, her long legs, her firm ass, and of course, her abs. You've never seen someone with abs as glorious as hers before. You wanted to moan out loud at just the sight of her. She was hotter naked than you ever imagined. 

"Checking me out, cariño?" She teased as she adjusted the harness. 

You bit your lip and nodded. She chuckled, feeling elated by the fact that she could see you get wet again just with the sight of her naked body. 

"Well, you can do that on your knees, no?" She asked.

⋆˙⟡♡ Watching you suck her fingers wasn't enough for Alexia, she wanted to watch you take her entire strap in your mouth. She wanted to see you struggle to take its entire length.

"Open wide, pretty." She said in a low voice as she took her thumb again to part your mouth. The sight of you kneeling in front of her with wide, pleading eyes paired with an angle where she could perfectly see your tits... it just made her want to fuck it with being gentle and take your head and use your mouth to fuck her strap with.

But she still tried to be gentle with you. Letting you take in the tip between your lips before gently pushing your head towards her to take in the entire length. You almost gagged at one point but you quickly adjusted to having her length in your mouth. 

When you took in the entire length, Alexia moaned out loud at the sight. "Fuck, suck me off, cariño."

You obeyed and started slowly moving your head as you sucked. You looked up at the older woman who had her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she held your head steady. “Yeah, just like that.” She grunted out. “You look so pretty taking me in like that.” The silicone stifled your moan when you finally got a whiff of her alluring musk. You couldn't see under the harness but you were sure Alexia was dripping wet herself.

Alexia grew impatient. “Cariño, tap my leg if it hurts, yeah?" She warned you and you just nodded.

She smirked before firmly grabbing onto your head as she began slowly thrusting into your mouth. When you felt the strap hit the back of your throat, you gagged and felt tears form in your eyes, making Alexia even wetter at the sight of it. "You look so cute, cariño." She grunted out breathlessly.

The base of the dildo was hitting Alexia's clit every time she thrust into your mouth, driving her close to an orgasm. It felt so good watching you suck her strap off while feeling it all on her clit. She moaned as she kept thrusting your head against the entire length, wanting to feel more of the sensation.

She moaned out in a low voice and threw her head back. The sight of her — with her eyes shut and her muscles clenched — as she used your mouth to fuck herself left you dripping on to Alexia's bedroom floor. Finally, you felt Alexia tense up before finally cumming. 

"Good job, baby." She said before guiding your mouth open to take the dildo out, a string of saliva forming from your mouth to the silicone member. She bent down to your height and captured your lips in a kiss. "You did so well. You took me in your mouth so well."

Her compliments filled you with so much warmth. You continued to kiss her, wrapping your arm around her neck. Effortlessly, Alexia lifted you up again and laid you down on the bed. 

She planted a gentle kiss on the side of your head before whispering. "Think you can handle my strap inside of you?"

You didn't even have to think twice about it.

⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia never was an impatient lover in bed but everything about you made her feral, wanting to fuck you fast and hard just so she can watch you unravel before her over and over again.

Something about the way you orgasmed was addicting for her to watch. She loved watching your body clench, your mouth open wide in pleasure as you moan and whimper and scream her name. It was addicting for her.

Despite that, she still wanted to focus on your pleasure instead of fulfilling her own desires of seeing you cum several times — one after the other — under her.

She watched your pussy slowly take in her entire length as she slowly pushed it inside. It didn't take long until she thrust the entire length inside you, the strap disappearing from her sight. She cursed under her breath as you wriggled and whimpered underneath her as you felt her huge strap completely split you open. She bit her lip as she slowly began to thrust in and out of you.

You were exactly as she fantasized in bed — obedient, submissive, and loud. And god, you were so gorgeous when you were being fucked. She leaned in again to capture your swollen lips into a short kiss before she focused again on fucking you with her strap.

Your moans and whimpers were a symphony to her ears. She felt like she could cum just hearing you absolutely get wrecked by her.

You couldn't control the volume of your voice. Alexia was extremely skilled in bed. Her thrusts were fast and hard but incredibly precise, pressing against your sensitive spot with every push she did inside you. There was too much pleasure rippling through your body to give a fuck about the neighbor's hearing.

And you just couldn't stop moaning out her name. It felt so good in your mouth to say it over and over again. 

"Yeah, keep moaning out for me, cariño," Alexia said as she picked up the pace of her thrusts. 

You felt a tad of pain as she became rougher with her thrusts but it was a good kind of pain. Alexia grunted as she held on to your waist with her hands. 

It didn't take long until your pussy was clenching around her strap and you were practically shaking as your orgasm built up for the second time that night.

"You're all mine," Alexia slurred out in between heavy breathing. "This pussy is only mine."

You moaned out in agreement. "Yes, Alexia, yours. I'm yours."

With one strong thrust, you came undone. You screamed out her name again for the nth time before falling limp underneath her. Alexia pulled out and gave you a kiss. 

You couldn't find the energy or brain power to speak. So, you just held Alexia close, your heavy breathing synchronizing with each other. You sighed.

You just knew then and there that you've fallen hard for Alexia Putellas.

⋆˙⟡♡ You woke up to an empty bed, blinking a few times as the soreness in your body set in. You groaned, stretching, and only then did you realize you were still naked. Flushing, you glanced around, noticing Alexia must be in the kitchen from the faint sounds of cooking.

Quickly, you found your underwear on the floor and pulled it on, then grabbed one of Alexia’s football shirts from her closet to slip into.

With a soft smile, you tiptoed over to her and wrapped your arms around her waist from behind. “Good morning,” you murmured.

She chuckled, “Careful, cariño. Sneak up on me like that, and I’ll cut my finger instead of this tomato.”

You hummed, ignoring her and just hugging her tighter. "Breakfast?" 

She laughed. "I think someone enjoyed last night way too much to realize it's already noon." She smiled. "This is already lunch."

You blushed and let go of Alexia, getting out of the way of her cooking. You sat down on the counter and watched her do her thing in the kitchen. She looked like she already got up and took a bath as she was wearing new clothes.

"You took a bath without me?" You jokingly asked with feigned disappointment and a pout.

Alexia smirked. "Sorry, I couldn't stand the thought of waking you up when you looked so pretty sleeping naked in my bed. I'll be sure to invite you to join me next time." She glanced at you again, realizing you were wearing another one of her older Barça shirts. "Hmm, you seem to like wearing my kits, huh?"

You smiled. "Love your name on me."

Alexia's lips curled into a smile before giving you a peck on the lips. "You can have it. I just love seeing it on you," She set down the cooking supplies and leaned in to give you a deeper kiss. "But I love seeing me inside you more."

You playfully smacked her arm. She continued to cook as you picked on the leftover tomatoes on the cutting board to snack on them. 

You hummed playfully. "So, Ale..." You started.

"Hmm?" She replied, focusing on cooking.

"So... last night you said you thought about fucking me when you first saw me..." You brought up with a playful smirk.

Alexia chuckled. "Your turn to tease me, huh?"

"I'm just asking." 

"Well, of course, I did..." She responded. "Couldn't stop thinking of your little lace undies."

You blushed, recalling how you fell on your face and exposed yourself to her. "Hey, you're teasing me now again."

She laughed, stirring the sauce. “You’re just easy and fun to tease.” As she finished, she dished up two plates of pasta, setting them on the table.

"Hmm, then what was all that 'you're so young' and 'you remind me of my little sister figure' talk about." You brought it up, casually.

Alexia hummed as she placed a healthy portion of food on two plates. She placed it on the dining table, contemplating your question. She finally headed up to you, taking your hand and leading you to the dining table.

As she sat, she took a deep breath. "Well... I didn't want to scare you off just in case you weren't into me." She said. "And... I guess I was trying to remind myself that you were — I mean, you are — too young for me."

You hummed, giving her a reassuring smile. “Our age gap isn’t that big, you know. I’m an adult.” You reassured her and partly, yourself. 

She smiled gently but shrugged. “I know, but we’re in different stages of our lives, you know? It made me hesitate.” She explained. 

You nodded, feeling her words sink in. After a pause, you asked. “And with that tattooed girl… why’d you call me a ‘clingy little kid’ that night?”

Alexia’s face grew serious. “That was just a dumb mistake." She said, pausing to use a paper towel to wipe her mouth. "I was drunk, and I was with my ex—I hadn’t seen her in a long time. I didn’t think about how it would make you feel if you heard it."

“Oh… was that your ex-fiancée?” You asked cautiously.

Alexia shook her head. “No, no, my ex-fiancée and I would never hang out." She chuckled. "That was Jenni. We’re good friends and we were just catching up after not seeing each other for long... but yeah… I was stupid. I shouldn’t have said that.”

You nodded slowly, a lot of questions swirling in your mind—questions about her past, what last night meant, if your age still bothered her. But you decided to let it go, not wanting to ruin the moment. 

⋆˙⟡♡ "You ghosted me for a month and now, you're telling me that you're dating a pro soccer player?" Your best friend Ashley shouted over FaceTime. "Are you nuts?!" 

You hushed her as you stood from your bed to shut the door. "My aunt is right outside my room."

"Who cares? She's cool and probably would be gushing with me right now if she knew!" Ashley exclaimed. 

You chuckled. "Just shhh. I haven't told anyone about Alexia cause we aren't really dating."

Ash's face fell in shock. "Huh? Then what are you doing?"

You sighed before going on to tell her the whole story — the day you fell in front of her, the grocery runs, the night you saw her with Jenni, the night at the club, and of course, last night when you slept together. Ash was practically exclaiming and shouting every other minute in shock and excitement.

"Okay, okay, girl, I just looked her up and hot damn, you're telling me you slept with THAT?" Ash pointed her phone camera to her MacBook screen which displayed a photo of Alexia celebrating in her sports bra during a football match. 

You chuckled. "Oh... Ash, her abs... they were so firm and hot up close. I felt like I was going crazy."

The two of you geeked over how hot Alexia was for a few minutes before calming down. Ashley sighed. "But babe, like, I want you to be careful still cause like... she hasn't really said that she likes you yet, right?"

You blinked and thought about it and realized Ashley seemed to be right. She did say she wanted you and she did say you were "all hers" in bed and that she thought about you sexually from the moment you met... but there were no explicit mentions of her feelings.

"Hmm, yeah, I could read from your expression that she hasn't..." Ash commented. "I know she's sweet and fun but just be cautious, okay? I can't afford to lose my best friend to another gap year cause of another heartbreak." She joked.

You chuckled weakly. "No, no, I mean, I'm taking it slow. I'm not that invested yet." You lied. You were pretty much all in with Alexia at this point.

Ashley nodded. "Okay, that's good. Just enjoy having fun with your older woman but just be careful. Okay, babes?"

You sighed and nodded. "Yeah, of course."

Ash hummed and stayed silent for a beat before asking, "So... about this Patri girl, I just googled her too, and wow..." 

You chuckled and continued bantering with Ashley, trying to push your insecurities to the back of your head. 

⋆˙⟡♡ You woke up to your phone ringing. You blinked your eyes open and took a glance at the phone. "Hmmm," You groaned out before answering. "Yeah?"

It was Alexia.

"Cariño, come over, please." Her voice was low and sultry. You hummed into the phone mic, sleepily. Alexia chuckled at the sound of it. "Aw, did I wake you up, my love? I'm so sorry."

"Hmm, yeah. Is everything okay?" You mumbled out.

She had a short chuckle. "I just need to taste you, cariño. I need you so bad." Her voice came out in a needy, low tone that made your insides churn.

You took a deep breath and blinked the remaining sleepiness away. "Okay, I'll just get dressed up." You said with a yawn. "I'm still in my pajamas."

"No, baby, I'm undressing you anyway. Just come over, cariño." She begged. You smiled at the sound of her voice; she sounded so desperate and needy.

"Okay, got it." You chuckled.

⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia wasn't lying because as soon as you entered her apartment, your clothes were practically off your body and on the floor.

Alexia had pinned you against the front door, too impatient to even take you to her bedroom. You watched the blonde woman kneel in front of you as she pressed her mouth on your core, licking and flicking her tongue against the most sensitive part of your clit.

You grabbed her head and rocked your hips against her mouth, making Alexia hum in pleasure. She spread her tongue flat against your wetness, taking it all in before focusing again on your clit.

"Fuck, I could do this everyday." You muttered out.

⋆˙⟡♡ And you did do it... almost every day.

It could be early in the morning, in the middle of the day, or even late at night. Alexia would text you and you always found your way to her bed... or her couch, or her floor, her shower, her kitchen counter, her table. You two fucked so much that you felt like you were losing brain cells with how she left you so mind-fucked every time.

⋆˙⟡♡ On more than one occasion, you wanted to bring up your feelings for Alexia and how you wanted more than just sex out of your relationship but you always chickened out.

You figured you could talk about it some other time.

⋆˙⟡♡ Yet, the opportunity never really arose. Whenever you two were together, nothing seemed to leave your lips except her name and a string of incoherent moans. It was fun and exciting but sometimes, it also left you feeling insecure about your place in her life.

⋆˙⟡♡ "Look who's back home at 5 in the morning," Your aunt jokingly tutted her tongue as she watched you enter the apartment in clothes you borrowed from Alexia. You thanked heavens you didn't wear one of her kits with her name on it or else, you would have been figured out. "And is it safe to assume you didn't come from the grocery with that heavy cream I asked to buy you two days ago?"

You blushed as you saw your aunt judging you as she sipped her morning coffee. "Hi, Aunty..." You said softly. "I can go get that later once the supermarket opens. I'm sorry I totally forgot about it."

She shook her head. "How did you go from doing all the errands like a maniac to doing none of it?" She joked. "See, I don't mind that you're running around with some girl... clearly, it's making you happy."

You bit your lip and tucked a hair behind your ear. She continued, "Just make sure you're doing errands like you agreed to, or else I'm shipping you back to your momma."

You nodded. "Sorry, auntie."

⋆˙⟡♡ "Come over, cariño 😚" The message notification popped up on the top of your screen as you were reading the list of things your aunt wanted you to pick up from the grocery.

You sighed and texted Alexia, telling her you had to do some errands. You smirked as you read her reply. "Okay, I'll drive you there only if you agree to ride my face later."

You rolled your eyes and chuckled.

⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia had her hand on your thigh as she drove to the nearby supermarket, gently feeling your skin as she moved it up and down your thigh.

"Alexia, if you keep doing that, we won't end up getting the groceries." You said as you held her hand steady on your thigh. She smirked at you and said, "I'm fine with that."

You chuckled and ignored her.

⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia couldn't get her hands off of you. She'd have her hands on your waist as you tried to get stuff from the shelves. She would kiss you on the cheek randomly. Even as you were pushing the cart, she would have her body pressed behind you, resting her head on your shoulder as you pushed the cart together.

Thankfully, there weren't many people but the people who were there were taking notice of how clingy and affectionate Alexia was being.

"Cariño, you smell so good. I wanna smell you all over and put my face against your..." Alexia whispered in your ear as she rested her head on your shoulder. You playfully elbowed her and swatted her away.

"Ale, people can hear you." You said with an eye roll.

She hummed as she pressed her lips against your ear. "Baby, I just want you so bad. I don't care if anyone hears about how much I want to..."

"Alexia?" A voice from the far end of the aisle called. Alexia practically jumped away from you as soon as you two heard the voice. You turned your attention to the tall, blonde girl at the end of the aisle.

Alexia cursed under her breath but raised her hand to greet the girl who came walking towards you. "Frido, hey." Alexia greeted, straightening herself up. "What's up?"

The tall girl hugged Alexia and then turned her attention to you. "And who is this pretty girl you're with, Alexia?" She smiled at you before turning to Alexia with raised eyebrows.

Alexia looked at you with a panicked expression before turning back to Frido. "Oh, she's my neighbor. I gave her a ride to the grocery." She explained before changing the topic. "And who are you here with?"

Alexia and the taller girl, who you inferred was a teammate, started chatting a bit more but all you could think about was how Alexia introduced you

⋆˙⟡♡ After you loaded her car with groceries, you immediately headed to the passenger seat and slammed the door behind you.

Alexia had taken notice of your change in demeanor. She entered the car and looked at you with a confused look. "Why are you mad?"

You hummed and ignored her. She sighed and began driving. She tried to put a hand on your thigh but you swatted her away, which seemed to piss her off.

"What's your problem?" She snapped.

"I don't know, maybe neighbors just don't touch each other's thighs like that." You retorted, annoyed.

Alexia groaned. "Don't tell me you're mad at me because of that."

"Why wouldn't I be mad, Alexia?" You responded with a raised voice. "You and I have been fucking for weeks. We cuddle. We have dinner. We kiss and fuck and spend so much time together. Not to mention that before all that, we were already practically together all the time... and I'm just your neighbor?"

Alexia's eyebrows furrowed together. "I don't see the big deal. Frido's my co-worker and I just don't feel like airing out my sex life randomly to people I work with."

You groaned. "Don't you get it? You don't need to tell people we're fucking. You can just say we're dating, seeing each other... I don't know. Even just calling me your friend is better than being called your neighbor."

Alexia clenched her jaw and shook her head in disbelief. "This is the problem with dating younger girls..." She muttered under her breath.

This just drove you over the edge. "What does my age have to do with this?" You shouted as you glared at her. "Last time I checked, you were the one who said our age difference didn't matter to you."

Alexia groaned. "You're just being so immature. Why does it matter so much what I said to Frido? She's just my co-worker. Of course, if some other girl came over to flirt with me, I'd say I'm seeing someone already. That's when the distinction matters."

"How would you react if someone I knew from school came over and I just called you my neighbor?" You retorted.

"I wouldn't give a fuck," She responded. "Cause I'm mature enough to know it doesn't matter."

You snapped. "Well, maybe that's cause you don't actually care about me." You could feel your voice crack as you said it but you stopped yourself from getting emotional.

Alexia groaned and grew more exasperated. "See? This is your problem. I don't air out my personal business and suddenly you think I don't care about you..."

"Well, do you, Alexia?" You stared at her, with tears threatening to fall from your eyes. "All you ever want to do now is fuck. You don't ever tell me how you feel about me. You never even mentioned once that you liked me... and I can't recall the last time you complimented me in a way that wasn't about my body or looks. You might care but not enough."

Alexia groaned but tried to compose her thoughts before responding to you, not wanting to frustrate you even more. "Obviously, I like you but I just..." She trailed off. "I don't know if I'm ready for what you want."

You looked at the older woman with an incredulous look. You were at a loss for words. You felt a tear fall but you just wiped it off and shook your head, dryly chuckling.

She parked the car and took a deep breath. "Cariño, just because I'm not ready to commit yet... doesn't mean I don't care or like you." She explained patiently as she turned to look at you. "I just... think what we have now is good. Please, can we just calm down?"

You stayed silent, waiting for her to tell you she liked you more than just physically or to tell her you mattered to her. You didn't know exactly what you wanted to hear but you just wanted reassurance that you weren't just some secret fuck buddy to her.

Alexia groaned exasperatedly at your silence before unbuckling her seatbelt and leaning towards you, grabbing your face to kiss you. But instead of kissing her, you put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"Goodbye, Alexia." And with that, you left.

⋆˙⟡♡ After your frustrating exchange with Alexia, you demanded your groceries and insisted on carrying them up yourself, not wanting to talk to her for a while. 

So, with two arms loaded with grocery bags, you clumsily stormed into the apartment, causing a couple of things to fall out of the bag. You groaned exasperatedly. "Fuck this shit."

"Guess the coupon didn't work out at the supermarket, huh?" You nearly jumped at the voice. You turned to see your aunt sitting on the couch, sipping coffee. 

You sighed deeply, not answering as you were still distraught over the realization that after all this time, Alexia never returned your feelings. You doubted yourself, thinking maybe you were immature and childish for reacting like that but you couldn't help but be overwhelmed with insecurities. 

Your aunt took note of your gloomy demeanor as she stood up from the couch to help you out with the groceries. "Darling, are you alright?" She said as she took the bags from you.

You looked up at your aunt and just shook your head. She immediately put the bags down on the nearby counter and took you in for a hug.

⋆˙⟡♡ As you unloaded your groceries with your aunt, you also decided it was time to let her know about what was going on. She was always the cool aunt, growing up. She was never judgmental or preachy; she often said something like "How could I be judgemental when I was way worse than you when I was a kid?" So, you figured that if there was anyone you could go to for advice, it would be her.

You kept the details vague though, not totally willing to disclose the fact that the girl you were seeing was Alexia. You just said you met an older woman while walking Ruby and you two hit it off. You recounted all the memories of you two hanging out, doing groceries, walking, or even just doing laundry.

"It felt domestic, at some point." You told your aunt. "It felt like we were dating even if we hadn't hinted that we liked each other. It felt even more intimate than when I was with my ex, y'know. It really felt... I don't know, close to her."

Your aunt nodded, understandingly. She continued to listen as you told her about running into Jenni and what Alexia said. Then, you told her about the nightclub incident, keeping details and identities vague. "And while I was dancing with the girl I met at the counter, she suddenly grabbed me and pulled me away and dragged me out of the club."

Your aunt's eyes widened. "She did what?!" She exclaimed, almost comically loud. You chuckled and continued, "Yeah, and I got really mad at her for it but then she suddenly kissed me."

You continued telling your aunt about the kiss and how you finally got to admit your attraction for each other. Then, you told her how started spending your time together in a more intimate manner, completely leaving behind the cutesy domestic aspect you've grown accustomed to.

You cringed a bit, talking to your aunt about your sex life but she didn't seem that bothered. "So, you went from playing house together to just fucking each other's brains out, got it." Your aunt said, making you chuckle.

You then tell her the reason as to why you were alone and angrily hauling paper bags full of grocery. She nodded along, seeming to be in deep thought. When you finished telling her your story, you sighed. 

"So, yeah... I just got so annoyed by the whole 'neighbor' comment, the fact that she said I was immature because of my age, and how she didn't even bother to clarify that she liked me beyond the physical aspect. There was no reassurance that I could mean more to her than just someone to have fun with." You explained. "And when we argued, it felt like she knew exactly what my insecurities were with our relationship — well, situationship — and just had to pick at those."

Your aunt nodded, understandingly. "If it was just the grocery thing with her co-worker, I would have said you were acting immature too but I get that it was all the other factors together that just made you snap." She sympathized. 

You nodded. "Yeah, I think I would have calmed down if she didn't make the comment about my age. It just felt like a pick at my deepest insecurity with our relationship, that I'm too young and immature for her... and the fact that she didn't want to commit or even just reassure me about us."

You sighed deeply. "It just made me feel so unsure of myself, which I was already feeling ever since we made our relationship mostly physical."

Your aunt sighed. "Well, if you ask me, I think it's better she showed you her intentions now than later, right?" You nodded in response.

"So, just rest a few days, and assess your feelings. Don't shut her out completely," Your aunt said. "I think you should give her a chance without her knowing that you're giving her a chance, if that makes sense. Just wait a couple days and if she reaches out to you and apologizes and tells you that she values you as a person, and possibly, a future partner, then go for it."

You sighed, thankful for your aunt's advice. You took her in for a hug, feeling comfort with the fact that you could really run to her with your problems. 

Your aunt patted your back. "I'm sure you'd figure it out. Besides, I feel like she'd cool off in just a few days and apologize. Athletes just tend to have a reactive temper, I guess."

You froze at her comment. "But I never told you..."

She chuckled. "Well, your reaction just told me now."

⋆˙⟡♡ That very night, Alexia texted you just as you were about to get in bed. 

"Cariño, come over." You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what this text meant and you weren't exactly in the mood to fuck and forget about it.

Another text. "Let's make up, please. I miss you." 

"Cariño, are you still mad?" 

"I'll make it up to you pls."

You sighed, not a single text about talking it out or apologizing for how she acted. You put your phone on silent and just decided you'd reply once she texts you for more than a booty call.

⋆˙⟡♡ You were on your early morning run with Ruby when your phone started ringing. You rolled your eyes at the caller ID. It was Alexia.

As soon as the rings stopped, you got a text. "Come over, Cariño." 

You rolled your eyes again. Is this the only phrase she's capable of? What happened to "hey" or "i'm sorry"? 

As if reading your mind, you get another text. "I'm sorry."

You hummed in satisfaction but figured that you still needed a bit more time to think it out and consider your emotions. You didn't want to talk it out while you weren't ready.

⋆˙⟡♡ Late at night, you considered messaging Alexia that you two should talk but you still felt a bit of uneasiness and uncertainty with it. Plus, you felt that if you went to Alexia at this time of night, she'd get the wrong message. 

⋆˙⟡♡ But apparently, even if you headed to Alexia's apartment now, you wouldn't find her there anyway.

You squinted at the Instagram story that the nearby lesbian club posted and saw a familiar figure in the background of one of the videos. You swore it was Alexia.

So, you did some digital investigating. Since Alexia was never the type to post on social media. You looked through Patri's Instagram story. Nothing. You went to Mapi's Instagram. Nothing. It was only on Ingrid's account that you found something of interest.

It was just a video of Ingrid with her arm around Mapi as they sang along to a song you weren't familiar with but in the background, you could see Alexia chatting up a shorter brunette girl.

You figured you might be overreacting but you couldn't help but feel jealous and annoyed. You were here, mulling over your relationship while she was out partying and maybe flirting with other girls.

The rational thing was to consider maybe it was just another night out with teammates, enjoying the break from football. But a part of you just felt annoyed and jealous. 

I'll sleep it off, you thought. If she messages tomorrow, whatever it is, I'll reply that we should talk then. No use in delaying it anymore.

⋆˙⟡♡ Tomorrow came and there was no message. You pouted and went about your errands. 

Afternoon, nothing. Dinner time, nothing.

You practically stalked the entire Barça team but most of them didn't post anything aside from Ingrid who just posted a couple more photos with Mapi and another with Alexia. Nothing too incriminating.

Still, you couldn't help but get annoyed that she gave up trying to reach out to you.

⋆˙⟡♡ The next day came, and then the next, and the next, and no message from the blonde Catalan.

You felt like you were reverting to your "bed rotting and mopping around with Ruby" routine as the days passed. You wanted to talk to Alexia so bad and you wanted to kiss her and hold her but you just knew deep inside, that it would be better if she made the first move in having a conversation about your relationship.

You sighed as you tapped through Instagram stories again, having nothing better to do. You paused when you reached Patri's Instagram story. 

After that night at the club, you haven't exactly reached out to her considering your situation with Alexia but... Patri was always at the back of your mind.

You hesitated, pausing to consider. Would it be messy to hit up Alexia's teammate after everything we've done?

You bit your lip. Well, Alexia and I never dated and as far as anyone is concerned, there's nothing between us. No one, except maybe Frido, has a clue that we're romantic. 

You corrected yourself. Romantic? Am I insane? There was nothing actually romantic about it. It was purely physical, especially towards the end. 

You sighed. I just want someone who wants to date me and invest in me romantically. Is that too much to ask?

Your night flashed back to the club with Patri. While you didn't get the chance to talk much, she seemed attentive and interested in everything you were saying. Plus, she was also incredibly attractive. It wouldn't hurt to give it a shot.

But the thought of Alexia lingered. You knew that it might be unfair to her — how you never talked it out with her while sliding into her teammate's DMs. It could really hurt her.

...But then again, she never really made the effort to talk it out anyway. And, if you were keeping count, she hurt you first. You take a deep breath. 

Fuck it. Alexia's not my girlfriend. I can do whatever the fuck I want.

⋆˙⟡♡ You didn't expect Patri to respond until the next day since you were certain she had a bunch of other DMs from fans.

But it didn't even take half an hour for her to reply, already talking about where she'd take you out on a date. You smiled, grateful that she was willing to still date you even after what happened.

⋆˙⟡♡ Patri took you to a tapas place. Even if you were the one who asked her out, she insisted that she pick you up; she even brought you a delicate bouquet of pink and white flowers. 

She was basically everything a girl could ask for, opening doors for you and letting you sit first, being polite and attentive to you

It didn't hurt that her playful flirtatiousness from the club was still intact. When she met you at the lobby, she gave you a whistle, reacting favorably to the tight dress you were wearing. She also seemed to love guiding you by putting a hand behind your back or your waist. You felt it was a good balance of being polite and being subtly flirty and sensual. 

⋆˙⟡♡ As you were eating and drinking, Patri finally brought up the single thing you didn't want to talk about at all.

"Okay, so I've got to ask." She furrowed her eyebrows. "Why did Alexia drag you out of the club that night? I was confused cause I didn't even see you two talk before that and she was suddenly dragging you away from me. I asked Mapi about it but she said she was too busy cuddling up with Ingrid to pay attention to anything else."

You sighed. You knew this question was inevitable but you still hated having to talk about it. "Alexia is actually my neighbor." You responded.

Patri nodded and chuckled, still visibly confused. "Okay? And?"

You chuckled back. "Well, we hung out sometimes and she told me that I reminded her of your younger teammate, Jana..." You continued. You weren't exactly lying but you did feel like you were circumventing the truth. "So, I guess she was protective of me somehow? I don't know..."

Patri nodded. "Hmm, did she tell you anything about me?"

You shook your head. "Uh, no... she was pretty drunk so I don't think she was thinking straight that night."

Patri paused and took a swig of her sangria. For a moment, you thought she'd seen through your lie version of the story. 

Patri sighed. "I still think what she did was so random but... I guess, it might be because she doesn't trust me enough in the relationship department." She chuckled.

Patri briefly explained that she once dated another younger teammate and it ultimately ended up sour when Patri grew bored of the relationship and broke up with the girl, leaving the younger player distraught. It affected the team dynamic for a while but she said it didn't take them long to recover from it. 

"I figured that maybe that could be the reason." Patri nodded, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "She didn't reply to me when I asked but I mean, Alexia barely checks her phone so..." She laughed.

You took a deep sigh of relief. She didn't figure you out; she seemed more concerned about the fact that Alexia might have warned you that she wasn't ideal dating material. "Yeah, I guess that's it... she was drunk and we didn't exactly talk about it after." Again, you weren't exactly lying when you said that.

Patri nodded. "But I hope you don't let that change the way you see me. I swear, that whole thing was just blown out of proportion. I wasn't being mean to her; I just try to be honest with the people I date." She explained with a shrug. "I mean, what's the point of lying?"

You felt a lump form in your throat but just forced a smile, nodding.

⋆˙⟡♡ In the next week, you spent more time with Patri, having lunches or going for random café runs. When you were apart, you were still texting each other stupid memes and TikToks or just chatting about everything under the sun.

It was fun being around her. She was so funny and easy-going. It felt like dating a friend. But the best part of it was that, even if you just started dating, she was very forward about how she felt about you.

⋆˙⟡♡   You went on a random afternoon date to a cute gelato place you passed by once on one of your walks with Ruby. You briefly mentioned it to Patri in a passing conversation but she remembered and took you there the next day. 

You hummed in delight when you tasted the pistachio ice cream. "Oh, this is so good." You exclaimed. She smiled at you and looked at you with soft, admiring eyes.

You blinked. "What?"

"Nothing," She chuckled. "I just... like spending my time with you. I think I really like you..."

You smiled back. "I like spending time with you too."

She paused to eat a spoonful of ice cream. "Who knew that the hot girl I was grinding on from the bar would have me acting all nervous to tell her that I like her?" She joked. 

You laughed and shook your head at her silly statement. With Patri, everything seemed easy. No doubts or second thoughts. She was always quick to remind you she liked you, not leaving any room for questioning.

Yet, deep inside, you could still feel yourself yearning for Alexia. Your relationship might have been tumultuous and uncertain but she made you feel things. Everything felt fiery and passionate and overwhelming... and you just craved for that intensity again.

⋆˙⟡♡ "Okay, do you want pizza or something else?" You asked Patri as you lay on her couch, scrolling through food options on the Deliveroo app. 

Patri lifted your feet up and sat down, placing them on her lap. She rubbed your feet as she contemplated her options. "Hmm, are you on the menu?" 

You chuckled and playfully pushed her with your foot. "You're so gross, Patri." 

She continued rubbing your feet. You realized that you have been seeing Patri for almost two weeks already and you still haven't done anything beyond kissing. You reasoned out to yourself that it may be because you two usually spent your time outside her place but you knew deep inside, something else was holding you back.

"Hmm," Patri hummed loudly. 

"Yes, Miss Guijarro? Is there a problem?" You asked, looking away from your phone to give her an eyebrow raise.  

She shook her head. "Nothing... you just didn't answer the question..."

You smiled in amusement. "I did... I said you were gross." You retorted. Patri pouted and gave you a disappointed face which you just laughed at. You rolled your eyes. "Hmm... ask me again after dinner."

Patri practically beamed. "Okay, just order whatever pizza then. I don't want to delay dinner any further." She joked.

You chuckled at her silliness. "So, what movie did you say we should watch again?"

"I was going to recommend that we watch this horror movie, The Woman in Black, but I don't think that will set the mood I want to set." Patri chuckled. You nodded, recalling the movie and how Alexia mentioned that it was recommended by a teammate. 

Of course, it was Patri. She did say she loved horror movies.

You nodded. "Let's just watch something else. I hate horror movies." And being reminded of Alexia.

She chuckled. "Yeah, okay, my teammates didn't like it too. Pina and Jana practically hated me when I made them watch it when they came over." She recalled before turning to you to smile. "You really should meet them. They're fun. You'd love them."

You just nodded along, feeling hesitant. You didn't know if it was a good idea meeting any more of their teammates, scared that maybe Alexia had mentioned something to someone and word would get out about this whole complex situation.

So, you changed the topic. "Okay, got us a large pizza with some soda. That good?"

⋆˙⟡♡ You and Patri were going out on another date at a new club near her place. It started off well. You tried some unique cocktails and got to chatting about your college life and Patri's own experience back when she was still studying.

Two drinks down and you were already starting to feel tipsy but you figured that was no problem. After all, you were with Patri who was responsible enough to take care of you if you did end up wasted.

In the middle of your conversation, Patri paused to check her phone. "Oh, by the way, I hope you don't mind but I told Jana that she should come over. She's in the area and she said before that she wanted to meet you."

Your heart dropped. "What?"

"Jana, my teammate." Patri clarified, speaking in a higher volume as the music had gotten a bit louder. "She's really fun so no worries."

You blinked, feeling a bit anxious. "You told her about me? She's going here?" 

Patri looked confused. "Yeah? She's my friend. Don't you want to meet her?"

You sighed and started to overthink. You felt like it was irrational to feel this nervous about meeting her teammate.

You didn't want to admit it but deep down, you knew that if you met Patri's friends and teammates, it would solidify to them that you were Patri's girl. 

The fact that Mapi and Ingrid already saw you two flirting back in the club didn't help. Now, a bunch of other people in her team knew about you. Soon, it would be solidified to everyone that you were Patri's... and somehow, you didn't want that. 

Because that meant you were erasing your chance with Alexia. What if, at the end of it all, you decided to choose Alexia? Then, it would just seem like you were a slut or that you used Patri.

But you did use Patri. You used her to forget about Alexia.

The nagging voice in your head repeated over and over, making you feel overwhelmed with the gnawing feeling of guilt. 

"Do you not want to meet my friends?" Patri asked again, bringing your attention back to her.

"I- I just..." You started getting frustrated, not with her but with yourself. "I don't think I want to do that right now."

She looked at you confused. "Why?"

You shook your head. "I don't know. I just... why would you tell them about me?" You asked in a raised tone. It was sinking into you just how rude you sounded; you could have made up some excuse about wanting to spend time alone. But you just had to be too emotional and now, it was too late to take your words back.

The calm expression on Patri's face turned to that of disbelief. "Am I not supposed to tell my friends about the girl I'm dating?"

You sighed. You knew she was in the right. In any other normal scenario, it wouldn't be such a big deal to introduce your date to a friend.  But, you just couldn't rationalize to yourself why you felt so annoyed and anxious about it. "I just... I'm not ready for this Patri. I'm sorry."

Patri tried chasing after you but you waved her off. You were too overwhelmed with emotions and thoughts you could never explain to her. 

⋆˙⟡♡ The combination of alcohol, anxiety, and guilt had left you shedding tears inside the taxi cab on the way to your apartment.

You liked Patri. You really liked her a lot.

But... with Alexia, it was different. She made you feel like your heart was doing flip-flops. She made you feel so warm from the inside. You don't think anything can replace the feeling of being with Alexia. She was... something else.

You loved the way she took care of you — cooking you meals, carrying everything for you, making you feel good. You loved her kisses, her touch. You loved how she looked at you; you couldn't put into words how Alexia Putellas' gaze could make someone feel. 

It hurt admitting all of this to yourself because you knew Alexia never felt the same about you.

⋆˙⟡♡ After the grocery incident, Alexia felt annoyed and angry at you for blowing up the way you did. She felt like it was such an overreaction to what she said. 

But most of all, she hated how you questioned her feelings for you. After all the casual dates, the daily walks with your dogs, the grocery or laundry runs, the nights spent cuddling, the breakfasts she'd thanklessly prepar for you as you slept soundly in her bed just cause you mentioned you loved waking up to the smell of pancakes... she felt it was overlooked. 

She did like you. She liked you a lot, more than anyone she's ever messed around with. But she wasn't ready for a relationship with you, or anyone at all. She just never desired that ever again.

Not after Olga left her.

She didn't know if she could ever recover from another heartbreak like that. She didn't know if she had enough strength left in her to handle another failed relationship.

⋆˙⟡♡ When Olga left Alexia, she felt like she could never be with someone like that again. She hated the rollercoaster of a relationship; she felt like she'd grown too tired of it already.

She usually settled for meaningless hook-ups, the occasional one-night stand. She was content knowing that that was the closest thing to intimacy she would get ever again.

⋆˙⟡♡ That was until you came along with your sundresses, your clumsiness, your sunny demeanor. She found it hilarious how you would find so many ways to be around her. It was becoming blatantly obvious you had a crush on her.

⋆˙⟡♡ Sure, she first thought of you as just someone she could hook up with; the physical attraction was there from the start. But you were so... innocent, oblivious to her touches and comments, her advances. She figured that maybe you weren't really into her like that, maybe you just loved being around her.

⋆˙⟡♡ So, she let it play out. You'd go on your morning walks, share a coffee at a café, go to the grocery, do the laundry... she enjoyed it a lot until she realized she might be developing feelings again for someone who might not like her like that. 

⋆˙⟡♡ And so she decided to slowly detach herself from you, not seeing you for a few days.

The only problem with trying to detach physically was that she never considered how you still managed to linger in her brain. She couldn't get you out of her head. You were in everything she saw. 

Making a cup of coffee? Oh, this was the brand of oat milk you liked. Doing laundry? Oh, this was the top you thought was cute on her. Even Nala was all out of sorts, possibly also missing Ruby. 

⋆˙⟡♡ So, she tried other things.

She called up her ex, Jenni, who happened to be in town for drinks and perhaps, some good old fun. It worked for a while. Jenni always knew how to get your mind off of things

But then, just before she entered her apartment that night, she saw you, looking so cute in your pajamas with sleepy eyes and Ruby by your side.

And suddenly, you were imprinted on her mind again. 

⋆˙⟡♡ Even when she was waking up to a debilitating hangover, all she could think about was if she was going to see you again that day.

She dreaded the thought of seeing you, knowing it would only remind her that she was growing attached to your presence. Yet, strangely, she also craved your presence. She missed walking your dogs together. She missed seeing you in your cute dresses, how you'd blush when she called you pretty.

She knew that she was risking getting further attached to you if she did spend more time with you but not being around you was so much worse than that.

⋆˙⟡♡ So, she walked Nala that afternoon during the time you'd usually take Ruby out for her poo time. But you weren't there. 

She'd go to the laundromat several times with just a couple shirts in hand, hoping to see you fussing with things that shrunk in the dryer. Again, nothing.

She'd send you a text about something dumb like the supermarket near you stocking up on your favorite oat milk but it was left on delivered.

She was getting frustrated. She did start the whole avoiding thing but the way you did it was so unsubtle, especially after she figured out that you were taking Ruby on walks at ungodly hours of the day. It was blatantly obvious you were avoiding her.

It was a sign for her to erase any thought of pursuing you, whether it be for some casual fun or something more. She felt you were so immature to be avoiding her like this, and she didn't have the energy to deal with that.

⋆˙⟡♡ When Mapi sent an invitation to the team group chat for a night out at Manuelas, Alexia was the first to say yes.

She figured she might as well get drunk and get laid that weekend, instead of staying at home wondering when the 22-year-old down the hallway would come out of her apartment to walk her dog. She felt so juvenile and naive thinking about shit like that.

She knew that going to a club, surrounded by hot girls would be enough to forget about you.

⋆˙⟡♡ But as soon she entered the club with her teammates, she saw you.

You were unbelievably close to some girl with her back turned on Alexia. She grew angry at the thought of you flirting with someone else. She grew even more frustrated when Mapi leaned over to whisper, "Looks like Patri already found her meal for tonight."

She was basically gritting her teeth at that point.

⋆˙⟡♡ She hated how you touched Patri's arm with unspoken intentions and hated how she could hear you laugh from two meters away at Patri's corny jokes. She hated how you barely acknowledged her even when she approached you, not even a single smile or nod. 

⋆˙⟡♡ She couldn't help herself that night. She spent several weeks trying to give you all these hints and advances just for you to reciprocate none of it. But here you were, grinding against her teammate who you barely even knew.

Soon, the alcohol in her system had taken over and the only agenda on her mind that night was you.

⋆˙⟡♡ One night with you was enough to drive Alexia feral. There was something about you that was addicting, something that drove her insane. 

She's slept with a lot of beautiful girls, and girls who were amazing in bed. But nothing compared to you.

⋆˙⟡♡ She had to have a taste of you every day, sometimes even more than just once a day.

She was a woman captivated. Even when you weren't around, all she could think about was pleasuring you and what she'd do to you as soon as you were around.

⋆˙⟡♡ One night, you were heavily making out on her bed.

She was slowly grinding her knee against your core, gearing up to take control again. But this time, you pulled away. "Alexia, can I make you feel good this time?" You looked at her with wide eyes.

She smiled at you. "Cariño, I already feel good just watching you." She tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. She planted a kiss against your temple. "Come on, just lay back down; I'll take care of you."

You pouted at her with puppy eyes. Her weakness. "Please? I can't promise that I'll be as good as you but I can try." You pleaded.

She chuckled. "No one is as good as me, cariño." She sighed, pausing to give you a kiss. "But if you insist."

You were overly excited, spreading her legs clumsily before diving in. She hummed as she felt your tongue press against her, lapping her entire core in such a careful and calculating manner.

Once you were more comfortable and familiar with her, you wrapped your mouth around her clit, sucking like she did with you. Alexia let out a soft moan, which was enough encouragement that you were doing well. 

Alexia stifled her moans as you continued to eat her out, alternating between sucking and licking. She grabbed onto your head, grinding on you as you continued to eat her out.

She moaned out your name as she felt the pleasure fill her entire body. As soon as she was wet enough, you inserted two fingers inside, steadily thrusting as you kept a quick and consistent pattern of licking around her clit.

Just with a few thrusts, she could feel her orgasm approaching. And as she came, she moaned out loud. "Uh, cariño, I love y—" 

She stopped herself from saying it, eyes wide at the realization. She looked down at you but you were still pressed between her legs, not hearing her little slip-up.

She bit her lip, feeling like she was approaching dangerous territory with you and her feelings again. She told herself that it was just the pleasure, the sudden rush of emotions that made her almost say it but she knew that wasn't the truth.

⋆˙⟡♡ From then on, she kept your interactions short and casual. No more extra frills. She'd hit you up whenever she wanted some fun or stress relief but she'd leave it to that.

You didn't go on any more dog walks or errand runs. She didn't want to do anything that reminded her of anything soft or romantic. She decided that she was going to limit it to just the physical.

⋆˙⟡♡ Naturally, it didn't take long until you were demanding for her to tell you how she felt.

She cursed, thinking she should have been more limiting about it. Why did she have to go with you to the grocery that day? If she hadn't, maybe she wouldn't be forced to contemplate her emotions on the spot.

⋆˙⟡♡ Of course, she liked you. She liked you more than she would have liked to. But, she knew that you were young and all that commitment stuff mattered to you and she just couldn't promise you that. 

⋆˙⟡♡ She didn't know how to make it right with you without having to lie to you by giving you some false sense of commitment.  She figured you would have moved on from it soon enough and you'd be back to spending your days all over each other again.

⋆˙⟡♡ But you didn't respond to her texts. You didn't answer her calls. You shut her out completely. It left her annoyed and mildly... upset.

"She's just another fuck buddy," She told herself on several occasions. "You'd find someone else soon."

⋆˙⟡♡ But she didn't. Every girl she talked to was boring. No one even remotely attracted her anymore, not even physically. Even when she went to her usual lesbian club, there was absolutely no one that caught her eye.

That's when she knew she was in trouble.

⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia still didn't want to confront her own emotions.

If she wasn't going to fuck her way around to forgetting you, she figured she would pour her time into friendship, as corny as it sounded.

She'd hang out a lot in Mapi and Ingrid's place but being the third wheel just reminded her of you again. She'd prepare dinner for her younger teammates and it would be a good distraction until they made the same stupid Tiktok references you made and played the same songs you listened to. It just felt so impossible to run away from the thought of you.

⋆˙⟡♡ Jana was helping Alexia wash the dishes after a spontaneous dinner at Alexia's home. Jana always had a fifth sense when it came to her teammates, and she could sense that Alexia needed company. 

"So, how've you been, Ale?" She asked, cautiously. "You seem different from your usual self.

Alexia hummed. "Just bored," She responded. "Wish football season would start soon so I won't be stuck alone at home all the time. And you? How's Jill?"

"She's great. She's coming over here this weekend to visit me and her friend from the Netherlands who is on Erasmus here." Jana beamed. "Her friend is pretty cute, Ale. We should set you up."

Alexia chuckled and shook her head. "If she's on Erasmus, that means she's way too young for me." She laughed. 

Jana frowned. "I mean, she's a bit younger than you but the age gap isn't that bad. It's just like Jill and me." She hummed at the thought of her girlfriend. "22 and 30... not that big an age gap, in my opinion."

Alexia sighed deeply. Great, another reminder of her.

"Think about it, Ale, it would be so cute. We can even invite Patri and her new girl!" Jana exclaimed, enthusiastically. "It would be my first time doing a triple date."

Alexia nodded and just continued washing the pot she used. "I didn't know Patri was dating anyone," Alexia commented. 

"Yeah, I stalked her girlfriend on Instagram and she's really pretty. I think they suit each other really well." Jana beamed as she absentmindedly continued to wipe on the same plate she'd been wiping for a while. "Just like I think this Dutch girl would suit you..."

Alexia shook her head in amusement and took the plate from Jana's hands. "Let's focus on the dishes for now." She joked, absolutely not interested in dating another college girl.

Jana's phone buzzed and she gasped. "Oh, Ale, we should go out tonight! Patri's at the new trendy bar with her girl." She exclaimed, looking at the text she got. "Ooh, I've been wanting this strawberry cocktail there."

Alexia pondered for a moment. She hasn't exactly hung out or talked to Patri since the club incident but she figured that if Patri had a new girlfriend, it would be water under the bridge for them. "Hmm, how far is it from here?"

"Let me check," Jana paused before gasping again.

"Wait, aw, look how cute they are! They're so adorable together." She gushed before showing her phone to Alexia. "Look, Ale. Isn't her girlfriend so pretty?"

Alexia nearly crushed the wine glass in her hand when she saw a selfie of you and Patri with your faces so close together. She blinked a couple times before setting down the wine glass and trying to retain composure.

Jana still noticed Alexia's weird reaction. "Why are you quiet? Don't you think she's such a massive babe?" She gushed, scrolling through the other photos Patri sent. "Patri's so lucky."

Alexia rubbed her face and sighed. "I just didn't know Patri was dating my neighbor." She said, trying to make her stunned reaction appear more natural.

Jana widened her eyes. "What a small world, oh my god! All the more reason we should go out tonight." She smiled. "I can even invite Pina since I think she's around the area too."

Alexia shook her head. "Nah, I'm good." She responded. "I forgot that I have a dental cleaning in the morning and I have to wake up early."

Jana pouted but didn't want to force Alexia. "Okay, I'll just tell them you send your best wishes." 

Yeah, best wishes. 

⋆˙⟡♡ As soon as Jana headed out, Alexia opened another bottle of wine. She didn't know how else to cope with learning that you had moved on so quick and started dating her friend.

Here she was, going crazy trying to forget about you while you were cozying up to her friend and teammate. And the fact that all her teammates probably knew about it before she did... it was unbearable.

This was what she wanted to avoid all along — the same destructive feeling she had when she ended things with her fiancée. But this time, you two never even dated. You only saw each other for a couple months and yet, she was completely distraught.

She chuckled dryly to herself, thinking about what her younger teammates would often joke about when talking about their own relationships. "That two-week-long lesbian situationship will send you to therapy." 

She always laughed it off, chalking it up to kids being dramatic. She never would have thought she'd be going through it too at her age. She finished the bottle and decided it wasn't enough; she had to have more to drink but there was nothing left in her apartment.

She sighed, thinking maybe it was time to cool it with the drinking. But she knew it would be easier to drown out her emotions with more alcohol.

⋆˙⟡♡ You wiped your remaining tears as you entered the apartment building.

Fortunately, the cab driver didn’t catch your answer when he asked where you wanted to go, giving you extra time to cry as he initially drove to the wrong location. (Not that you could blame him—you were an American with no Spanish or Catalan skills, and your sniffling and tears likely didn’t help either.)

You straightened your dress up and tried to brush your hair with your fingertips. You didn't want your aunt to see you distraught again. One more breakdown over a girl and you were certain she was going to have you checked with one of her psych friends. 

And, you just felt pathetic having all of these feelings. You were so done with the tears, the frustration, the regret. It was more than you could handle. 

At least, I'm home now. I'm going to leave behind all the tears with that poor cab driver and genuinely, get my shit together. 

⋆˙⟡♡ But much to your dismay, once the elevator doors opened, you saw Alexia. 

You hated the cruelty of fate, forcing you to face each other again while you just cried your heart out about her in a cab. 

You kept your head low and considered just waiting for a different elevator. But Alexia laughed dryly and asked. "You're not getting in?"

You wanted to retort with a "and you're not getting out?" but you decided against it, knowing your voice would crack and give away the fact that you just bawled.

So, against better judgment, you got into an elevator with Alexia.

⋆˙⟡♡ Alexia couldn't quite see your face; all she knew was that you'd come home from a night out with Patri. She clicked her tongue, glancing at you before rolling her eyes.

"Not gonna press the button?" 

When you didn’t respond, she hit the button for your floor herself, stealing glances as she did. She wanted to curse out loud. She could barely see your face since you hovered close to the elevator door, and turned away from her—but the way your dress hugged your body stirred a familiar annoyance. How could you look that good, dressed up like that, for anyone but her?

"So, you're with Patri now, huh?" 

You stayed silent. Of course, word had gotten out to her that you were seeing her teammate. You were stupid for thinking lesbians wouldn't tell their friends about the girl they're seeing.

Alexia scoffed, pressing a tongue against the side of her cheek in annoyance. "So, you sleep with me... then you sleep with Patri... you got a Barça checklist I don't know about?"

Her words stung your chest. It felt like she was implying that you were a slut or that you were just interested in her or Patri because they were famous. 

"I didn't sleep with Patri..." You muttered out weakly. 

Alexia chuckled. "What? Scared she won't make you feel good as I did?" She taunted, feeling her step closer to your back.

This time, you felt tears fall down as she instigated you. You could tell she was drunk by the way she was slurring her words, maybe even more drunk than you were but you couldn't ever find a world where you would speak as harshly to her as she was to you.

"Huh, can't even answer." Alexia hummed. 

But it didn't take long for her to hear small sniffles. She furrowed her eyebrows before gently walking towards you to take a look at your face. You quickly pushed her away, not wanting her to see you this vulnerable again. The elevator doors opened and you walked out but she quickly grabbed you. 

She spun you around and her face softened at the sight of you crying. You tried again to swat her away. "Alexia, leave me alone." You croaked out.

She didn't let you go, keeping both hands on either side of you. "Hey, hey, what happened?" Her voice was more calm now. "Did Patri hurt you? What did she do? Why are you crying?"

You pushed her away again with more force, making her step back away from you. "Fuck, Patri didn't hurt me, Alexia! You did!" You said with a raised voice. "This is all your fault! So, you don't get to talk to me like that after you fucked everything up. Just... leave me alone."

Alexia reached out to hold your hand, keeping you from walking away. "I'm sorry." She said it sincerely. She hesitated for a while before wiping away the tears from your face.

She used both of her hands to cup your face. "Cariño, please don't cry anymore. I'm sorry... I'm sorry I hurt you." Her voice was soft.

You looked down at your shoes as Alexia continued to wipe away the tears on your cheeks. 

"I'm really sorry." She began apologizing again. "I should have talked to you about how I felt. I should have been more open about my past and why I was so scared to commit. Instead, I made you doubt that I ever liked you and that was wrong for me."

You gently removed Alexia's hands from your face and wiped the tears off yourself. "It's not just that, okay?" You said with a soft yet pointed tone.

"Tell me and I'll make it up to you." Alexia moved closer, putting a hand on your waist. 

You shrugged her away. "I just... I'm having it really good with Patri. She's funny and pretty; she's really a catch. And, she makes me laugh so much but she's also really nice to me. Like, attentive and sweet." You rambled on, still tipsy and incoherent from the alcohol in your system. "She's so good to me, Alexia. And I want to love her so bad. I want to be in a relationship with her and commit to someone who reassures me about their feelings so often that I wouldn't have time to question it."

Alexia stayed silent, knowing there was more left to be said.

You sniffled. "But all I want is you. I can't love anyone while you're there, at the back of my mind." You confessed, feeling your voice crack. "Even when you made me feel like shit, I wanted you. I still wanted to be in your arms and kiss you."

You wiped the tears that were running down your face. "It's unfair to someone as kind as Patri for me to be there with her but still be thinking about how much I want you... and that's all on you." You exclaimed, blaming her. "If only you were honest about all of this — even if you didn't like me — I'd get the chance to move on and I wouldn't be stuck thinking about you anymore."

Alexia stepped in to hold you in an embrace. She hushed you, brushing your hair and patting your head to comfort you. "I'm sorry, cariño." She whispered. "If I could redo it, I would."

"I was just... frightened by how I felt." She continued. "I didn't ever heal completely from my past relationship and it just left me scared of ever committing again. And, you came along and... you made me feel all the things."

You stood there, sniffling against Alexia's chest as she held you. "I just felt like accepting the fact that I was falling in love with you would be accepting the chance that you'd break my heart." Alexia sighed in shudders, feeling tears well up in her eyes as well. 

She looked down at you and you looked up at her, locking your eyes together. "I'm not making excuses. I just want you to know... I can change it all now. I can make it all better." Alexia whispered.

She leaned in closer. "I want to try again with you." She closed the space between you, taking your lips into hers gently. "Let me try again."

You breathed, averting your gaze away from her again. You couldn't decide on what to do but how could you think clearly now when all of your thoughts were becoming static noise. 

You wanted to give in, to try again with Alexia. After all, she was what you craved all along. But something inside you felt that that would be the wrong decision.

"I think I need to think about it." You looked up at her. "If we wanted to try and actually pursue something, we need to be serious about it. It would be the mature thing for me to do."

Alexia nodded and gave you a bittersweet smile. "Can always trust you to do that." She smiled before gently touching your face again. "Just give me one more kiss, just a kiss good night?"

You sighed before you nodded, letting her hold your waist in her hands. You locked eyes, taking in the moment and the proximity you had with each other. Then, your eyes both fluttered shut and you were kissing again. 

It felt good but it felt so different this time.

It felt like a goodbye.

⋆˙⟡♡ You woke up to your Aunt knocking on your bedroom door. "I made breakfast." She called out to you.

You blinked your eyes open and immediately felt the heaviness of your eyelids. You could instantly tell they were puffy from all the crying. You sighed and headed out to the dining room to have a meal.

"Damn, you look like some bees stung your eyes." Your aunt commented, making light of it. "You run into a beehive?"

No, just ran into a blonde footballer.

"Rough night," It was all you could say. 

Your aunt squeezed your shoulder. "We don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to. Don't worry." She said. "But if you want to... you know I'm just here."

⋆˙⟡♡ You were cleaning the dishes from breakfast when you heard the doorbell.

"I'll get it." Your aunt called out, signaling for you to keep doing the dishes. As soon as she opened the door, she cooed. "Ooh, quines flores més boniques! És para mi?"

Your aunt continued to talk to the person at the door as you washed the plates. When she shut the door, you turned to see who it was and were shocked to see your aunt holding a bouquet of various white flowers. 

Before you could even react, your aunt was reading the tag that came with it. "Huh, guess I got the wrong footballer in mind..." She commented.

You hurriedly set down the plates and ran to your aunt to grab the note from her and prevent her from reading any more of it. She just chuckled. 

It was from Patri. "I'm sorry for last night. I shouldn't have rushed our relationship. I'll give you space if you need it but I'm here for you always. -Patri"

You bit your lip, feeling the guilt in your heart grow tenfold. Patri was never in the wrong. Any girl would tell their friends about someone they've been seeing for weeks. You knew it was your fault and that she didn't get the treatment she deserved.

Yet she was the one sending you flowers. She was just too good for you.

⋆˙⟡♡ You were in bed, scrolling through Patri's Instagram and contemplating whether or not you should message. But what would you even say? I'm sorry. I'm in love with your teammate?

You wished you were honest from the start... or that you could just take it all back. Never come to Barcelona. Never experience this pain and guilt. Never meet Alexia. 

You put the phone down and decided to make yourself some tea to calm your nerves. Your aunt was in the living room, watching old clips from a Barcelona game. "That's the girl you're seeing, right?" She asked, pointing at Patri.

"Auntyyy," You groaned. "Why are you watching that?"

"I... wanna support my local club, y'know." She said with a shrug. "Can you make me a cup as well?"

You nodded, trying to ignore the screen that showed both Patri and Alexia; it was the last thing you needed. 

⋆˙⟡♡ Later on, there was another knock on the door. Your aunt offered to get it, pausing the video. 

You turned around curiously as you heard her chuckle. "Two in one day. Guess I should open up a flower shop." Your aunt commented, jokingly. "So... what can I help you with, neighbor?" 

"Is she home?" You heard that familiar voice. It was Alexia. You couldn't see her but you knew it was her. "I... got these for her."

You bit your lip, not knowing what to do. Your aunt looked over to you. Seeing the worried expression on your face, she turned back to Alexia. "I can tell her to call you later if she wants to."

"Thank you. Please tell her to call me whenever." Alexia's voice sounded disappointed. "And that I'm sorry."

As soon as your aunt closed the door, you saw that she was carrying another bouquet. This time, it was a large bouquet of peach and pink peonies. 

Your aunt looked at you with an incredulous look on her face. "Now, I think we need to talk."

⋆˙⟡♡ You and your aunt sat side-by-side on the living room couch with both bouquets on the coffee table in front of you and the TV still on pause with the Barça clips.

"Well, if you ask me, I like the peonies better." You aunt commented after a long moment of silence, still trying to bring some humor to the ridiculous situation you were in. "Did it come with a note?"

You shook your head. "Is that a sign or symbol of something? Are these a metaphor for something I'm missing?" You said, overthinking again.

"I think it's a sign for you to get your shit together," Your aunt said with a sigh. "Cause how is it that you've got two footballers sending you apology flowers in a day. What did they do?"

You shook your head and rested your head in your hands. "It's actually mostly my fault..." You said, muffling your own words with your hands as you felt yourself getting teary-eyed again. "I just feel so stupid."

Your aunt comforted you by rubbing your back. "It can't be that bad, darling. We'll talk it out and we'll find a way for it to get better."

⋆˙⟡♡ But it was that bad. 

You felt yourself wince and grow more and more annoyed with yourself as you recounted the events in detail. Your aunt was trying her best to be comforting but you could tell from her expression that even she was finding it all hard to believe. 

"And so, I just feel like I made a huge mistake." You sniffled as you finished telling her the entirety of what happened. "I didn't mean to lead Patri on. I genuinely felt like I would have moved on and actually be with her but Alexia..."

You looked at your aunt, who nodded understandably. "That's because your heart already chose her, " she shrugged. It sounds corny, but it happens. Once your heart claims someone, you can't easily force them out of there and replace them with someone else." 

You wiped the tears on your face. "I just feel so clueless and stupid right now because I put myself in a lose-lose situation."

Your aunt furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "And why is that?"

"Because if I choose Patri, I would feel guilty because I know Alexia will always be on my mind and that I'll always still have those feelings for her and that's just unfair and wrong to Patri." You explained, sniffling. "And I love Alexia, even more than I have ever loved my ex who I dated for years... but I don't think I can trust myself to be vulnerable with her anymore. And I think I would always feel distrustful of her intentions."

Your aunt nodded, pausing for a moment. "But you do know those aren't the only choices, right?"

You looked at her to continue. She sighed, "You're looking at a false dichotomy. It's not going to be Alexia or Patri. It doesn't even have to end up with you choosing a relationship to pursue right now." She paused. "It could just be you choosing to heal... which is what you initially came here to do."

You nodded, taking in her words.

"You know how when you get a wound and it's barely healed but you pick at it and it just gets worse?" Your aunt tried to explain "That's what's happening now. You came here to heal from your ex-girlfriend and you barely let the wound heal before putting yourself in the same situation that gave you the wound in the first place. Do you get me?"

You nodded, feeling a bit lost with her vaguely medical analogy. "Yeah, kinda."

She sighed. "What I'm trying to say is... you can't keep running back to the same situations that hurt you and expect different results." She said as she rubbed your back. "And, you were right for coming here in the first place. You can't heal where you were hurt so it was smart of you to take yourself out of that place and distance yourself to give yourself time to actually heal."

"But... now, it's happening again. You're hurting here." She looked at you with pity. "And you can't expect yourself to heal from a past wound and this new wound while you're in a place that just keeps making you want to pick at the scabs each time they form."

Your aunt chuckled. "I feel like I've had this exact conversation with a nine-year-old kid who kept picking his knee scabs from falling over his bike..." She said, lightening up the situation. "But seriously, I stand by it. I don't think you can fully heal while you're here."

You paused. You knew she was right. If you stayed here, you'd always be tempted to run to Alexia who was literally a few feet away from you.

And, even if you were strong and had self-control, the thought of her just being down the hall would make you wonder all the time about what she was doing. Plus, the likelihood of you two running into each other was also enormous. 

You couldn't stay here and expect to heal. 

"So, should I just go back to the States?" You asked.

Your aunt paused. "If I were you, I wouldn't. Because then, you'd be comfortable in your environment, and you'd be bored and all you would do all day is probably watch Barcelona clips or stalk those two online and you'd keep regretting more." 

"When you first came here, you told me you'd love to travel Europe." She reminded you. "You said you'd want to go see the Eiffel Tower and Pisa and all those corny tourist traps... what's stopping you from doing that?"

You paused to think about it. You did have a decent amount of months left before you had to return to university, and you didn't want to come home and tell everyone that all you did was mope around in your aunt's apartment for an entire year. 

"But what if I still don't heal there? What if I still feel like shit?" You asked your aunt.

"Well, if you ask me, it's better to feel like shit while you're eating a pizza in Rome than feel like shit while taking Ruby out on her daily poop." She joked, still making sense.

You knew she was right. You couldn't waste time here, doing nothing and expecting results. There was no chance that you would stay here and completely move on from the remnants of the pain you felt with your ex and from the fresh wounds you got from your experience with Alexia.

If you wanted to move on, you had to put yourself first and leave Barcelona.

⋆˙⟡♡ You packed a small suitcase with essentials while your aunt helped you book trains and buses.

"Madrid is packed with tourists during this season. Why don't you go to France first then just pass by Madrid on the way back here?" Your aunt said with eyebrows knit together as she looked at your rushed itinerary. 

You chuckled. "To be honest, I don't really care where I go. I just need to be a tourist for now — be on the move and take all the usual tourist photos."

Your aunt hummed. "Then I'm changing all of your plans here cause this isn't a good route." 

You chuckled and allowed her to do it. Soon enough, you had a month of travel ahead of you with the first plane leaving early tomorrow. 

You sighed. You thought it was such an out-of-character thing for you to do — just randomly planned flights and train rides to random cities without any set housing or a clear itinerary yet. But maybe doing things that were out of your comfort zone was what you would need.

⋆˙⟡♡ Your aunt drove you to the airport at 4 am. Before leaving the apartment, your eyes lingered on Alexia's door down the hallway. You felt tempted to run over there and give her one last kiss before bidding your farewell.

But you knew that was just you picking at the scabs again. So, you used every ounce of self-control in your body and dragged yourself away from it. 

Though, you did send Patri a text. You told her you were still experiencing trust issues from a past relationship and that you jumped into dating her without healing. You apologized, making sure she knew that none of it was her fault and that you were genuinely regretful. You also said you would apologize in person but that you had to leave Barcelona urgently.

You were nervous for when she would wake up to that text and for what she would say but you figured that this was for the best.

You hugged your aunt tightly before you headed inside the airport. You wanted to cry, missing Alexia already even when you haven't left the city.

But you had to choose yourself this time. You had to heal.

⋆˙⟡♡ In just three months, you've been to Paris, Monaco, Tuscany, Venice, Munich, and all the other places you've planned (and didn't exactly plan) to go to. 

You did all the touristy stuff. You made several friends in the hostels you stayed in. You tried so much food. You hiked. You missed a flight. You ate bad cheese and blew your guts out in the metro toilet. You basically experienced everything — good and bad — and it was genuinely helping you move on.

⋆˙⟡♡ There were times when you stumbled — liking a photo Alexia posted and quickly taking the like back, sending an Instagram DM only to unsend it before it's fully delivered, basically going through each Barça member's account to see a glimpse of Alexia. 

It was especially worse when football season started and Barcelona was playing so many games. Even when you tried not to watch, you'd stumble into a bar that was showing the game. But soon enough, you learned to block it all out from your head and ignore it.

When you left Barcelona, Patri sent you one long message telling you that she was hurt but she understood where you were coming from and that if ever I needed someone to talk to still, she was there. Though, you never took her offer; you still appreciated the gesture. All you could hope for was that she would move on and find someone more worthy of her time.

On the other hand, you didn't know if Alexia messaged you because you blocked her number as soon as you boarded the plane. It felt naive and childish to do so but it was crucial. You knew you'd end up obsessing over whether or not she'd message you or what she'd say if she did. You didn't want to fixate on that.

Ignorance is bliss, after all.

⋆˙⟡♡ You felt like you were almost fully healed at this point. 

You no longer felt sick when you'd see Alexia play a game on TV. You no longer stalked the Barça team for updates. You were moving on, and it felt good.

But undeniably, there was still something inside you that felt empty. 

In all of your efforts, you figured that throwing out all the regret, pain, and hang-ups inside you was the best way to go about it. And it worked but it did leave you feeling empty and unfulfilled.

It wasn't anything too bothersome but you knew yourself that something was missing that kept you from fully healing.

⋆˙⟡♡ "Come on, we're both tourists here. We might as well make the most out of it." The brunette girl said, trying to get you to go out on a date with her. "What's stopping you from going out with me?"

You smiled at the brunette sitting across from you. The two of you accidentally exchanged suitcases and had to contact each other's mobile from the bag tags to switch them back. 

So, you met at a café near your hostel and you were shocked to learn that the owner of the luggage you accidentally got was this attractive brunette girl with a confident smirk and intimidating aura. 

"Isn't this already a date, Lena? We're in a quaint coffee shop in Italy, getting to know each other." You asked her. "If that's not enough, let's have another coffee then - on me - then we can go our separate ways and have a cute story to tell our friends. You can embellish it with more cutesy details; I don't mind."

"All we did was exchange suitcases and chat about how hassle that trip was." The German girl rolled her eyes. "The fact that you and I have the exact same luggage, were on the exact same trip going here, and exchanged suitcases accidentally..." She paused for dramatic effect.

"That's just the recipe for the most perfect meet-cute. It's fate." She reasoned out.

You laughed at her. It was undeniable that she was charming and funny and very good-looking, and the fact that she was trying so hard to ask you out was flattering. But you weren't really in the mood to date now. If anything, it was the last thing on your mind. "I've had enough meet-cutes in my life to know it isn't all that."

"Sure, a gorgeous girl like you would have experienced it so much already but that shit rarely happens to me so it must mean something." Lena reasoned out, making you laugh again. "What? Are you straight or something?"

You laughed. "God, no." You shook your head. "I just... came from a bad breakup, followed by two simultaneous situationships that had me running all over Europe just to get over it. So, I'm just averse to romance for the time being."

Lena's eyes sparkled with curiosity. She felt amused by your blatant honesty. "Tell me what happened then."

You shook your head. "Too long of a story. Besides, I don't kiss and tell." You shrugged. 

Lena huffed and rubbed her chin in thought as she crossed her arms, purposely doing so to accentuate her biceps. You rolled your eyes at the ridiculous attempt. "So, your exes must be hot, huh?"

You laughed. "Does that matter?"

"Well, I would give up pursuing you if you said they were hotter than me. That just means I've got no chance." She said.

You chuckled. "Well, then yeah. They're hotter."

She feigned defeat but paused. "Would it change your answer if I tell you I'm a pro football player?"

Your mouth dropped. What is with me and attracting soccer players? Was I a soccer ball in my past life for me to attract these women?

"That would just make your chances worse actually," You said with an incredulous look. "Way worse."

Lena sighed deeply. "Guess I've gotta go to that Juventus-Barcelona game myself." She said, trying to bait you.

You paused. You haven't kept yourself updated with the games Barcelona was playing. You knew it would have been counterintuitive for you to do so. So, it naturally came as a shock to you that they were playing in the exact same city you were in.

"Barcelona? Femeni?" You asked cautiously.

She nodded. "Yeah, my friend plays for Juventus and she invited me to watch." She took note of your expression. "You a fan of Barça?"

You hummed, not exactly responding. "And that game is when?"

"Tonight," Lena responded with a smirk. "Why? Did I just convince you to go on a date?

You laughed and rolled your eyes. Lena just laughed it off. "So, you are a fan."

"Yes, well, not really..." You answered vaguely, unsure of how to respond. "Kinda, I don't know."

She rolled her eyes. "Let me guess, you're one of those girls who saw those Tiktok edits of Alexia running around without her shirt on and so now, you're a fan." She joked.

You bit your lip at the mention of Alexia. It felt weird knowing that some stranger was talking to you about her without knowing that one of the reasons why you were in Italy was that you were trying to move on from her. 

Lena chuckled, assuming she was correct. "Well, I've got an extra ticket if you want to go... and I wouldn't mind if you cheered for Alexia the entire game."

What Lena said triggered a memory... of you and Alexia on the first night that you slept over at her place. 

You remembered how you cautiously watched her drift to sleep, talking about watching a game of hers when she said, "Promise that you'll cheer for me?"

And you made that promise. 

You didn't think much of it then. You were clueless as to what would transpire after that night. But, the fact was that you did promise her that.

You rationalized with yourself that she wouldn't have remembered and that that shit didn't matter anymore. But, it was just funny how this opportunity to see her again — in Turin of all places — was falling straight to your lap. It felt like a chance to fulfill that promise.

Maybe this was what you had to do now. If you changed your mind and ended up hurting from the sight of her again, you still had a month and a half to go to hop to more random cities and forget about her again. 

It wasn't a bad idea.

"I can just buy the ticket from you." You offered the German girl to which she laughed incredulously. "I think I've got enough cash in my wallet right now."

She smiled. "No, it's yours. I have no one else to go with anyway." She shrugged. "Can't believe I'm bagging a date thanks to Alexia Putellas."

⋆˙⟡♡ Your heart was skipping a million beats per second as you arrived, and it wasn't just because you were the only one in a Barcelona shirt on the Juventus side.

"Lewandowski fan too, huh?" Lena commented as she looked at the name on the back of your kit. 

You shook your head. "Not really, I just bought the only Barça shirt available from a stall near my hostel." You said as you scratched your neck. "It's kinda itchy actually."

Lena chuckled. "If you want a Barcelona jersey, I can ask my friend to exchange kits with Alexia and I can give it to you." She beamed, still thinking you were just some fan. "But that would mean another date with me." 

You rolled your eyes. "Again, this is not a date." You corrected. And I already have one of Alexia's kits back at my aunt's house in Barcelona, you thought silently to yourself.

She frowned. "God, your ex must be top-tier if you're still not folding to my charm right now." She joked. 

"Yeah, I actually dated Alexia Putellas." You responded in a jestful manner, looking at her straight in the face. Lena just laughed it off, clueless to the fact that you weren't lying. 

⋆˙⟡♡ The game was going to start soon and you were getting incredibly anxious. You were going to see Alexia after months of no contact. It felt like you were having an out-of-body experience.

Soon, it was time for the players to march in. Your seats were premium which meant that you were right at the player's tunnel — the first people to see them all enter.

Promise that you'll cheer for me?

The memory echoed in your head over and over again in the past hour. You felt a pang in your heart. There was a part of you that felt guilty for leaving Alexia without a single goodbye.

But you figured this was your way of making it up to her — by fulfilling that promise.

As soon as the players walked out with their mascots, you stood up and started to cheer her name. You felt like a shrill fangirl and you could feel the eyes on you from all the Juventus fans on your side but you didn't care all too much. You were keeping that promise.

"Alexia! Alexia!" You cheered, jumping on your feet. 

Pretty soon, the blonde took notice of the loud cheering that came from the Juventus side, ready to flash her beautiful, charming smile at a brave fan but when she saw you in that crowd, her face fell.

Alexia felt like she was actually dreaming when she saw you, wearing the previous season's kit as you screamed her name, locking eyes with her. (And were you beside Bayern player, Lena Oberdorf?)  

It genuinely looked like one of the several dreams she had of you in the past month; it felt hard to believe that you were here and that she was awake.

You stopped cheering and just flashed a genuine smile at her as you waved at her. Soon, a smile grew on her face again; her entire face lit up as she realized that it was all real and that you were really there, cheering for her. She tried to walk towards you but hesitated, possibly remembering that she had a game to play.

"Go, go!" You mouthed at her and gestured for her to go along and play already. You felt a few tears fall from your eyes which you quickly wiped away. Alexia just nodded as you gestured for her to go on, motivated to give her best now that she knew you were watching.

You had no idea why you were suddenly tearing up. It must have been the overwhelming emotions or the sense of fulfillment of keeping your promise to her that you would cheer her name. You weren't sure what it was exactly; all you knew was that it was all tears of joy.

Alexia smiled at you one more time and kept her eyes on you for as long as she could. You smiled back, unable to stop the tears now. 

As she ran off to the pitch, still turning her head back occasionally to see if you were really there, you screamed. "Go Alexia!" 

She gave you one last look and a smile before the game started. And finally, you felt that emptiness inside you get filled.

You were finally healed.

a/n: hope you guys liked it! if you did, please reblog and leave me your thoughts. (but please be nice... i am a fragile creature.) anyway, thank you for patiently waiting for this! i only did one read through it so there may be some errors which i'll just edit later on lol!

[norikuna]

SALVATORE — jujutsu kaisen x reader minors dni

prologue. → going on summer vacations with the jjk men and things get a little...hotter?

pairings. satoru gojo x afab!reader / suguru geto x afab!reader / nanami kento x afab!reader / choso kamo x afab!reader / ryomen sukuna x afab!reader / toji fushiguro x afab!reader

warnings+. non-sorcerer/jujutsu au, from the back, exhíbitíonism, mild food play, ríding, máting press, creámpíe, against the wall, oral (f. receiving), fíngeríng, hey even in a cave! reader is called good girl, princess, baby, darling, my love.

word count. 4.1k! song inspiration. salvatore — lana del rey

a/n. update #1 writing this fic had me looking up shit on wikipedia pages abt cities around the world, had me checking meteorology maps...tried to choose cities i've been to but i was still racking my brains. update #2 btw whenever i write smut like this i'm filled with outstanding self awareness and minor shame but thats the fun of it 😭 this is day no.3 of me trying to rewrite this all from scratch update #3 day 4! fawkkkk i wanna go on holiday too now. lmao if i was in the sukuna one, i would have been mad as hell, istanbul is stunning <3

mp3. everything looks better from above my king, like aqua marine, ocean's blue

TOJI FUSHIGURO — all the lights in miami begin to gleam 📍 miami, america

"o-oh, fuck. think she's really tellin' me to keep going like this, don'tcha think?"

your boyfriend is mean when he's like this. sharp, jade eyes narrowed as they take in the sight of your puffy folds swallowing him up over and over as he's stuffing himself into your sticky walls. and if you turn your head away, from where you're smashed against the pillow, you can see the floor-to-wall ceilings of the high-rise penthouse that offers an uninterrupted view of miami's glittering skyline.

"how - how, did you even get this place, hah, toji?" it's a wonder you can even get a coherent sentence out right now, your guts are practically being stuffed with inches of your boyfriend's veiny cock, and it's leaving you, well, delirious.

but with humble credit and thanks to what you can assume is your own nasty grip, toji's not faring much better either. his brawny frame is practically shuddering, and while you can't see his face in this position, you're certain that a sharp canine has sunk into his lip, and his breath is coming out in hulking groans.

"heh, you're n-not meant to ask questions like that, princess? gotta, ohhh, gotta keep some business s-secrets up my sleeve, huh?" and he's practically a beast right now, handling you on all fours of this king-sized bed, draped in silk sheets the colour of red wine, "just a reward for a-, haah, a job well done."

any job well done from toji was most likely something illegal, but you can't even bring yourself to care, not when there's a bucket of chilled champagne on the glass table to your left, and certainly not when his fat cock is smearing right through you, leaving a coil in your abdomen that only he can unravel.

you whine, feeling the fat tip of his cock practically rummage and make a home in your cunt, "toji, wan' more," and you're pushing the plush of your ass against his pumping hips, and you hear his sharp intake of breath.

a rough hand has snaked underneath you, creating a small gap between you and the bunched-up fabric on the bed, and his callous fingertips are now circling sloppy, messy circles over your clit, leaving you bucking in his hold.

"n-now, stay still, princess. not done with you yet."

SUGURU GETO — ciao, amore. soft ice-creams. 📍 amalfi coast, italy

you're not sure how long you've been trembling under suguru's mouth, but it must have been an eternity under the ministrations of his tongue.

the sun has been blazing high, casting a golden glow over this part of the private beach, hidden away from the towns bustling with tourists like yourselves who had descended upon the coast for the summer.

soft waves lapped in ebbing waves, the rhythm breaking the perfect stillness of the afternoon, in this wooden cabana, separated from the terracotta villas.

and no, your mind was nowhere near admiring the turquoise waters of the ocean, but rather your lover's mouth practically exploring every inch of your cunt like this.

the tapered tip of his tongue had long been probing around your fluttering pussy, taking in every last drop of your pearlescent luster that was practically dripping over his chin.

not to mention the absolutely sticky and languid trails of melting ice-cream, each biting cream drop that fell on your hot swollen folds getting promptly cleaned up by the one who was enjoying this sweet game.

"shhh! don't wanna get kicked off this beach, do ya, pretty?"

and suguru looks positively devious, his violet eyes gleaming with crude intent. his black hair is a tangled mess, long locks falling victim to your clawing nails that tumble carelessly over his bare back, kissed by the sun and glowing with a soft, rosy pink hue.

and when he smiles, the sunlight catches onto his lips, making the slick on his mouth sparkle and wink up at you.

"been - it's been an entire hour by now, can't you just let me cum," you huff, closing the plush of your thighs around his ears, boxing him in.

geto flashes you a mischievous grin, running a slow finger through your sopping folds, and lightly brushing over your entrance as you mewl again.

"where would the fun in that be, pretty?" he murmurs, "love seeing how wet this cunt gets for me, need to let me have my fun."

what a devil. clearly, getting under your skin is a sport for him.

you're hardly given a moment to breathe before he's jostling two thick digits right into the thick of it once more, in and out, in and then out, as his thumb find its home on the slope of your bare mound again.

"besides, we can take it slow for 'nother hour, can't we?" and now suguru's toying with your clit, and his teeth lean down to graze the swollen, throbbing bud, "gotta see just how much you can beg for me."

NANAMI KENTO — catch me if you can, working on my tan 📍 gold coast, australia

"w-wait, darling," nanami shudders under your touch, under your fresh set of nails raking small patterns over his neck, "anyone could just walk past here, y'know."

you curl your lip, before pressing your mouth in an open mouthed kiss to his stretched neck, warm and flushed.

you can feel the galloping thrum of his pulse beneath your lips, the heat almost intoxicating, mingling with the faint tang of the pool water's chlorine, and the scent of banksia and frangipanis in the air.

you can also feel his thick cock dragging through your walls, as you ram the weight of your hips over and over again. it seems like the shimmering skyline of surfer's paradise was just what nanami needed, after months of work, and you're determined to make the most of your time here.

he's got you bouncing practically like a ragdoll, heavy balls swinging up and smacking your skin in what little space remains between the two of you, and he's panting into your chest, "whatd'ya gonna do if someone sees?"

"mhm, don' care, no-one's here, nanami."

his broad arms loop around you in the pool chair, as you straddle the sizeable bulge that's making a tent in his briefs, "nasty, sometimes, aren'tcha?"

you smile, as your husband's large hands roam over your back, making you arch your back into his touch — as he deftly pulls at the tight knot holding your damp bikini top together.

"ah, don't get shy now. let me see these," and you can only nod hazily as he lets your tits spill out, and press up against his bare, chiselled torso, "wanted this so bad, just a minute ago, yeah?"

"s-still want this," and for good measure, you grind your hips down over his cock with even more pressure, feeling him jolt with a quiet 'fuck!' underneath you.

"haah, that's not fair, darling," and he's crashing his weeping, curved tip so far into you, that you're certain you're seeing stars on the saltwater horizon, "what happened to playing nice?"

you know you should be weary of the flicker of challenge that glints in his stern brown eyes, softened by the haze of your squelching cunt, "do y-your worst, otherwise what? can't keep up?"

a cocky smile curves over his mouth, and that's the wave of satisfaction you were looking for, hoping that he'd take the bait.

he leans further back in the pool chair, now with an arm wrapped lazily around your gyrating hips, but you can feel his grip tighten, stealing the humid air right out from under you, "we'll see who can't play nice when you're begging for my cock to fill you up."

CHOSO KAMO — all the lights are sparkling for you, it seems 📍santorini, greece

"hey, shh, shhh..."

choso's voice is a low rumble as he glides his thick, leaking tip down your slick core, and you shiver as the cool ocean breeze mixes with the warm slick gathering between your bodies, "w-wow, you're doing so good, handling it so well, my love."

you must have made a good choice, choosing this suite. one carved seamlessly into the tan-rock of one of the island's famous caves. and well, your sweet boyfriend has been fucking you so incredibly that you feel your eyes start to water, blear away from the pretty blue and terracotta accents on the mantelpiece.

his girthy cock sinking into you send shivers to your pussy that leave you fluttering and squeezing around him tighter, clenching around the veins as he sinks even deeper, so the thickened head is practically kissing your cervix, and filling you in ways you didn’t know were possible.

"d-does it feel good for you too, cho?” you gasp, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, fingers playing with the soft choppy strands that fall around his shoulders, "this...this is what you wanted, right, baby?"

the pale mauve of his lips curves into a faint smile, and despite the sharpness of his thrusts making a home in your gummy walls, there's a tenderness in his shadowed, hazel eyes as his palm glides down your torso, cupping your tits gently, "w-would go anywhere in the world, if it was with you."

and he's looking at you with such love that you just cannot help but believe him when he says, no, shudders out a "you're so beautiful."

the sound of the water lapping against the rocks below fills the room, mixing with your soft whimpers, as the slow roll of choso's hips leave your puffy folds weeping. the thick, throbbing head of his cock brushes against your g-spot, right there, and you moan, lost in the sensation.

"god, y-you’re so good at this," he breathes into your ear, his voice hoarse and strained, and suddenly far more shaky, "ah - could do this forever."

"w-will you?" you whisper, eyes fluttering as you lose yourself in what is surely ropes of stringy white cum painting you lovingly inside, "wan' feel you all the time, cho."

choso's misty, flushed gaze locks onto yours, filled with a heat that makes your heart race, and fireworks shoot through your abdomen, "think you're g-gonna be my wife someday, yeah?"

you bite your lip, a shy smile painting your face despite the way that he's practically jostling inch after inch into your pussy, pressing into you like a vice, "really mean t-that, cho?"

"ahh, 'course i do," he shudders, brushing a thumb down the swan-arch of your neck, "now, hold onto me."

RYOMEN SUKUNA — dying by the hand of a foreign man, happily 📍istanbul, turkey

"huhh, oh my god! you're an animal," you huff at your fiancé, who's currently sprawled on the plush bed underneath your straddling thighs, under the sheer curtains that billow softly in the warm breeze from the open latticework windows.

and right now, sukuna looks like a mess.

and it brings you a great deal of satisfaction to see your usually composed and aloof fiancé so undone and disheveled, as he grins up at you — the black markings on his face creasing with the movement.

his rosy-pink hair is a tangled heap, but you can't resist running your fingers through the short, tousled spikes.

and his lips, which have been marking you up consistently for the past ten minutes, gleam glossy and full, as his crimson eyes lock onto yours with the smug satisfaction of a cat who's gotten its way.

he'd barely waited a mere minute after the two of you had arrived back to your hostel's room, from a whirlwind tour of the sultanahmet district, before he had pounced on you, and had practically tore your long skirt off.

you don't quite think it's worth mentioning that you've been pawing equally at your boyfriend in the same time as well, pulling his thick and lengthy shaft out of the confines of his boxers, and swiping a thumb over the angrily-gleaming tip.

"d-didn't even take a second to think about all the places we just saw? the history lessons, and - sukuna, were you even listening?"

by now, you're fighting back heaving shivers at the way the pads of his calloused fingers run under your top.

"hah! yeah, yeah. history and all that," he murmurs, low and amused, but his focus is clearly elsewhere, his lips now resuming their previous task of snapping at your torso, letting pretty berry-red marks beam.

you roll your eyes, though a smile tugs at the corners of your own glossy mouth, "y-you're impossible," and you try not to squirm as his forefinger and thumb on each hand pinch at a nipple under your top, "don' even know why i bothered bring this...this camera around. the guide said that these sights were o-once, oh fuck, sukuna, get a grip, said the sights were once-in-a-lifetime b-breathtaking."

"breathtaking, huh?" sukuna shifts closer to you, scooting you further over his wide lap, and his voice has dropped to a low and sultry whisper that sends a shiver down your spine, and leaves you aching, "i think you're breathtaking. wan' explore this," and here, he snaps at the elastic band of your lace panties, "instead."

"and besides, i was listening," and now, he's patting his sculpted, exposed thighs behind the plush of your ass on him, "the guide said that this city straddles two continents."

he's emphasising his words with a deliberate tap, clearly hoping you'd catch the awful word-play.

"say something like that again, and i'm booking the next flight home."

"hah, so now you hate it when i am cultured."

by now, his two rough hands kneading at you has left you...airless. thick heat has been pooling in your core, and you just can't help but let out a soft whimper, "sukuna…only wanted y-you to focus."

he shakes his messy head, laughter rumbling deep in his chest, under thick pectoral muscles, "no can do, brat. you’re my focus now. done enough sightseeing outside today, wanna do something inside."

"you’re impossible!" but you gasp as he skims a thumb over your cloying, dewy clit, making you jolt.

you know he must be in a rare, mellowed mood because he breathes, "impossibly in love with you," and it's quiet, teasing as the heat of his breath ghosts over your skin, "now tell me how much you want this, and maybe i'll think about giving you a different type of lesson."

franky, by now you want nothing more than to be filled with heavy, hot inches that curl into you, sloshing their way to the most sensitive spot of all, and sukuna must see that on your face.

"i -," you begin, but the words falter as he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, and the weeping tip of his cock taps against the wet pool staining your underwear darkly translucent.

"just say it, brat. tell me how bad you want it, i'll even be nice this time," he urges, his voice a sultry purr, "just gon' give it to you as you ask, yeah?"

"wan' you in me, 'kuna," you finally admit, breathless, "i want you so much it hurts."

"good girl," he mutters, his eyes darkening with desire. "now you're getting the right idea."

you sigh, content, but then still your rocking hips suddenly, "but after this, we're still going out to the bazaar for dinner."

"for fuck's sake."

GOJO SATORU — like a boss, you sang jazz and blues 📍paris, france

you're not quite sure where exactly you should be training your ears, whether you should be listening to the sultry notes of a saxophone that wrap around the plush velvet booth where you and gojo are seated.

or the thick, clingy swish of his fingers practically bullying themselves in and out of your pussy. the air is thick with the scent of expensive cigars that make you wrinkle your nose, and fine whiskey (that makes gojo wrinkle his nose) and the sweet tang of your own slick, privately, just for the two of you.

your boyfriend sits close to you, his left hand tight on your waist, and the other working a fine instrument, bunching up underneath your ysl silk dress.

"baby, look at how your perfect cunt's talkin' to me," he's whispering, and you can hear the sheer glee in his voice, his breath hot against your ear.

meanwhile, your jaw is slack and you're doing your best to not meet his touch with a sultry, rhythmic grind of your own hips, but the knot is quickening and tightening within you.

but gojo just smiles, and you can see the blue in his eyes darken underneath his sunglasses that have slipped slightly down the slope of his nose, "but can't have everyone hearing this melody, can we? might think you were the main fuckin' attraction for the night and not -" he cocks his head to the quartet serenading the paris night sky, and the other patrons of this filthy wealthy club.

you just sink your teeth into your painted lip, suppressing a whine as he curls three fingers within you, reeling you entirely pliant and having you lean against his broad chest under his jacket, "b-but satoru, 'm getting close."

he's being awful, you think. and when he had pulled his hand out earlier, it had been entirely coated in a ribbon of your arousal, the slow syrup beginning to run down his slender digit, but he had parted his lips and let not a drop go to waste on his tongue.

the music is swelling, it's a jazzy crescendo that fills the air, and your gaze hazes and wonders, focusing on the open window where the eiffel tower stands ablaze in lights. soft gasps are escaping your lips, when gojo starts slamming his fingers up and up further, right up to his glossy knuckle, clearly searching for your g-spot.

and you are so glad that this booth is turned away from the rest of the club's patrons, for if they saw you, it would be no secret as to what exactly was going on underneath your gown.

"focus on me, love. just focus on how you're soaking me."

he's pressing his fingers impossibly deeper, stroking your walls in a way that make it impossible to think of anything else but him.

"gojo, please…" you breathed, struggling to keep your voice low, "what if someone sees?"

he laughs, pressing his mouth to your neck, and you know he's inhaling the new scent that you had picked up at the luxury flagship stores earlier, his treat.

"let them. paid good enough money to get in here," and now he's getting more insistent, practically ravishing your aching pussy now, "besides, they wanna say anything about it? i'll cut out their tongue."

"p-pretty sure that's, mmph, i'm sure that's i-illegal, 'toru."

"don't want your pretty head thinking about anything else right now, 'kay?" and god, it's one of life's greatest works, how he just knows how to work his magic like this, and the way that he's pinching, rolling and twirling his fingers has you convinced that the holy six-eyes technique, passed down in the sacred tradition of the gojo clan, is being put to nasty work.

sure enough, a little spark! there, and a bigger zap! against your clit practically confirms your suspicions, as does the unearthly glow you catch in gojo's wide eyes, and you can feel yourself hurtling towards a precipice, panting open-mouthed against him.

"dirty girl, you don’t want to make a scene, do you?" he says this like he was not the one who pulled you into this booth, and palmed his way up your slip-dress. like he's not the one who tore into your lace panties, and shoved them into his pocket.

"it feels so good, satoru,” you babble, barely able to contain yourself, as he scissors his fingers wide, nudging your walls apart, "i can’t — "

"then don't," he interrupted, his voice low and commanding, "just let it happen. i want to hear you, i wanna hear her too, but only if you can keep it down."

you nodded, breathless, watching as waiters in impeccable black-and-white attire glide between the tables, carrying trays of delicate hors d'oeuvres and glasses of dom pérignon.

"good girl," he murmured, his fingers curling just right, pushing you closer to that exquisite precipice, "now, be quiet and enjoy the moment."

just as he pinches your clit, you feel everything around fall away in shattering starfall. bolts of lightning shoot and splash through your lungs, stilling your heart, leaving your cunt pulsing with a life of its own, fluttering against satoru's fingers which still haven't stopped.

it's only then you realise that the band has stopped playing, and the other patrons of the clubs are leaning out of their seats, slapping their hands together in fervount applause.

but you can only stare, dazed and boneless from the remnants of an excellent fucking orgasm, as gojo leans in, just over the shell of your ear.

"how about we go back to the hotel room? wanna see an encore?"

[crushpunky]

drew’s lockscreen of actress!reader

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

this is something a bit new— a sort of social media au / short fic based off an ask. let me know what you guys think <3

Though the video was a bit blurry and quick, the girl on Drew’s lockscreen was undoubtedly y/n. Wearing one of Drew’s button downs, her hair swept back by the wind and a smile on her face, y/n struck a pose on the beach. Behind her, the sun met the ocean, casting golden light that kissed y/n’s skin and bathed her in an ethereal light. The photo and memory was one of Drew’s favorites, and each time he opened his phone he was reminded of it.

He had just gotten back home to Charleston to prepare to shoot Outer Banks following his time away while filming Queer in Italy. Any amount of worry or stress that loomed over him about his hectic filming schedule quickly evaporated when y/n picked him up from the airport, her dazzling smile wide and voice like music to his ears. The two of them spent the rest of the day making up for “lost time”, the couple mostly sticking to the confines of their bedroom until they finally decided to take a break and make the trek down to the beach to watch the sunset.

The sun was hanging low over the Carolina landscape, the only sounds the lull of the ocean and the swaying of the trees in the breeze.

“Didn’t realize how much I missed these beaches.” Drew said with a sigh, looking down at y/n with a grin. The two of them walked through the sand hand in hand, swinging their hands between the two of them rhythmically as they approached the water.

“The beach you took me to when I visited was pretty nice.” Y/n said with a smirk, raising her eyebrows up at Drew playfully. One of the times y/n had come to see Drew when he was filming, he had surprised her with a day at the beach. The only problem was, Drew hadn’t researched quite thoroughly enough, and the two of them ended up hiking to a nude beach. Flustered and fearful of the prying eyes of fans or the paparazzi, the two of them had to hike all the way back to town with their unused beach gear. Instead, they opted to spend the rest of the afternoon exploring the city hand in hand. Even if the day hadn’t gone quite how they expected, they got to spend it together and that was all they really wanted.

“Haha, very funny.” Drew rolled his eyes playfully, pulling the beach towel out from under his arm and laying it down in a spot near the surf. Smoothing it out, Drew sat down before offering a hand up to y/n. With a giggle, y/n took his hand before sitting down next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. Drew’s arm snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against his side.

“These sunsets weren’t quite as fun to watch without you.” Y/n said quietly, peering up at Drew. He looked down at her with a grin, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose before burying his face into her hair. Y/n could hear the steady thrum of Drew’s heart in her ear, his fingers tracing gently along her back in a way that made her cheeks warm.

“I’m happy to be back.” Drew whispered into y/n’s hair. The two of them sat in silence, basking in each other's presence, as the sun drew closer and closer to the horizon. Suddenly, an idea popped into Drew’s mind, his hand reaching into his pocket for his phone.

“Get up real quick. I wanna do something.” Drew smiled, climbing to his feet. Once more, he offered his hand out to y/n, who took it gratefully as she rose to stand next to him. Drew stood still, his eyes locked on y/n and a cheesy grin on his face.

“What?” Y/n chuckled, placing her hands on her hips as she faced Drew. With a gentle touch, Drew shifted her over to stand with her back to the surf, the setting sun illuminating her and the beach in an orange glow. Without another word and a lovestruck grin still on his face, Drew picked up his phone and pointed the camera towards y/n.

“Strike a pose for me, baby.” Drew grinned. Y/n smiled for the photo, not moving from her position.

“C’mon… please?” Drew said sweetly, his grin apparent in his tone. With a groan and a playful roll of her eyes, y/n popped her hip out in an exaggerated pose that caused Drew to let out a chuckle as he snapped a photo. Looking closely at the photo, Drew could feel his heart swell. Y/n looked so positively radiant, so positively y/n, the personality and beauty Drew fell in love with, all captured in just a single frame.

“Are you done?” Y/n asked, tearing Drew’s eyes away from his phone. He nodded before looking back down at the photo with a grin.

“Lemme see.” Y/n teased, coming towards Drew and raising up onto her tiptoes to peer at his phone.

“I think this is the best photo I’ve ever seen.” Drew whispered, causing y/n to giggle as she looked up at him. Quickly swiping through his settings, Drew set the photo as his lock screen. Turning his phone off, he turned it back on to display his new lock screen. The two of them laughed lightly before Drew put the phone back in his pocket.

“My little model.” Drew said, pressing a kiss to y/n’s cheek before lifting her in his arms. She let out a giggle, perhaps Drew’s favorite sound, as he spun her in the golden light of the beach. With a sigh, Drew sat her feet back down into the sand, his hands still wrapped firmly around her waist as he stared at her intently.

Despite being firmly on the ground again, y/n swore her head was still spinning because of the way Drew was looking at her: his eyes so wide, scanning over every inch of her, the icy blue bathed in a golden glow from the sun. Y/n reached up, wrapping her arms around Drew’s neck and smiling up at him. Slowly, Drew leaned in and pressed his lips to her own, his familiar taste caused her smile to widen. Curling her fingers into his hair, y/n pulled him even closer, savoring the beautiful moment the two of them were sharing… and wouldn’t soon forget thanks to Drew’s new lock screen.

[suguwu]

WOULD THAT I: PROLOGUE

The Gojo boy doesn't have a soulmate.

When you're both children, you overhear him being referred to as inhuman, between his power and his lack of a mark. The next time you see him, you use a marker to write your name on his skin, too young to understand what it means.

You forget, but Gojo—

Gojo never does.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

masterlist

pairing: gn!reader x gojo

wc: 2.6k

notes: thank you to my beta, as always! especially for putting up with my bratty ass and reading this early so i could post it earlier. this has been a fun fic to get started and i hope you enjoy the prologue!

content warnings: none. see masterlist for series content warnings.

The Gojo boy doesn’t have a soulmate.

You don’t think you’re supposed to know; it’s only ever talked about in hushed voices. The clans all speak like that, sometimes, each word a butterfly’s wing as it flutters from their mouths.

The servants, however, are louder.

One of them has a voice like a lark, a sweet, trilling song. It carries. You learn to hear her coming, to recognize her shadow against the shoji. You know the edges of her by heart. Sometimes she spreads her arms out as she makes her way through the hallway; her kimono sleeves flare out behind her like wings. 

“There’s something wrong with the Gojo heir,” she sings one afternoon, her fluting voice half-muffled by the shoji. “Those eyes of his—it’s like he can see right through you. And Fujioka says he doesn’t have a soulmark.” 

Another servant hushes her. “Don’t gossip,” she chides. 

“It’s true, though!”

“That doesn’t mean you should repeat it.” 

She huffs, grumbling something too soft for you to hear anything aside from the melody of it. The other servant laughs quietly before chivvying her forward. You watch until their shadows disappear, leaving only the hallway light to filter golden through the shoji. 

You return to your coloring book.

The Gojo boy doesn’t have a soulmate, but that doesn’t mean anything to you.

Not yet. 

—

There’s a boy in the courtyard.

He’s hopping from stone to stone in the koi pond, his snow-white hair glittering under the morning sun. He moves like a dancer, each step sure and swift, never once slipping on the wet rock. When he gets to the biggest rock in the pond, he crouches down, his back to you, and drags his fingers over the surface of the water. The koi rise to meet him, firework scales flashing in the sun. 

You watch him from the engawa, peeking out at him from behind one of the columns. You’ve never seen him before, and you’d remember him, with his starlight hair. 

“Who’re you?” he asks, not turning around.

You stay quiet.

“I know you’re there,” he says. “You can’t hide from me.”

He glances over his shoulder and the world goes blue.

It’s the cold burn of a comet’s tail streaking through the velvet night. It’s oceantide, relentless and unyielding. It’s a slice of the sky brought down to earth, heaven devoured.

Then he blinks, and he’s just a boy again. 

“Who’re you?” you ask, stepping to the edge of the engawa. 

He lifts his chin. “I asked you first.”

You introduce yourself the way your mother taught you, bowing to him shallowly. 

He scoffs. “You’re not even from the main clan.”

“Are you?”

“I’m not part of your stupid clan.”

“Oh.”

He stares at you, his crystalline eyes sharp-edged, all prismatic ice. “You don’t know who I am?”

“Nope.”

He rises to his full height, unfolding like an elegant crane. “I’m Gojo Satoru.” 

You tilt your head. The servants’ humming gossip made the Gojo heir sound ethereal, a fallen star that had burned away into human form as it plummeted through the heavens. His eyes are otherworldly, and you can feel the power rippling out from his lean form, as unstoppable as the tides, but—

“You’re just a boy,” you say. 

He scowls. “Am not.”

“Are too.” 

“I’m Gojo Satoru,” he says again, deeper this time, an intonation, a promise, a curse. His eyes flash, St. Elmo’s fire, a lightning strike of blue. “I have the Limitless and the Six Eyes. I’m not just a boy.”

You would believe him, but the last bit sounded more sulky than anything else. You’re about to tell him so when someone calls your name. You glance over your shoulder, but there are no shadows against the shoji yet.

When you turn back around, there are wet patches shining on the stones in the koi pond, an imprint of the past, but nothing else.

The Gojo boy is gone.

—

Your mother is hovering. 

She smooths down your yukata, chasing creases from the thin cotton with trembling hands. There hadn’t been time to change; she’d pulled you out of your lessons and hurried you down the hallways of the estate. 

“Bow low when you meet him,” she tells you, though she hasn’t bothered to tell you who ‘he’ is. “Understand?”

You nod. 

There’s a fine layer of sweat gleaming at your mother’s nape as she kneels before the shoji. She reaches out to open it; her kimono sleeve slips down, revealing the elegant curve of her wrist. You focus there instead of the opening shoji, the slow slide of it a hissing snake, coiled to bite.

The shoji clicks, a chime of teeth, its maw wide open. You take in a deep breath and step through, your gaze on the tatami mats. Someone shifts.

“Oh, it’s you.”

You glance up, directly into the gaze of Gojo Satoru. His eyes are as otherworldly as you remember, a crisp, clear blue framed in long lashes, like a snowy-edged mountain lake. He tilts his head as you gape, his hair gleaming bone-white in the sun streaming through the open shoji. 

You blink. “What’re you doing here?” you ask, and next to you, your mother hisses in a low, sharp breath. 

Gojo shrugs. “Dunno. The clan said I had to come and they caught me when I snuck out.”

The woman behind Gojo clears her throat. “Gojo-sama,” she says, her voice like the shivering leaves when the summer breeze stirs to life, “they’re a candidate for you to train with.” 

He eyes you. “Why?” he asks. “They’re not very strong.”

“Hey!” 

“You aren’t, though,” he says. “I can tell.”

You throw yourself at him.

His eyes widen, a devouring sea, and he grunts as you make impact. He’s sturdier than you thought; he’s slight, but it’s all lean muscle, even though he can’t be much older than you are. Your mother calls out your name, horrified, but Gojo is already recovering, grappling with you for control. 

By the time the adults pull you apart, Gojo is nursing a rapidly-purpling mark high on his cheekbone. Your split lip aches; you tongue at it and wince. You can taste blood, sour and metallic. You glare at Gojo even as your mother bows deeply to the woman.

“My deepest apologies,” she says, tightening her grip on the sleeve of your yukata and forcing you to bow with her. “I don’t know what came over them.”

The woman clicks her tongue. “The child should be punished,” she says, and your mother stiffens. “I would suggest—”

“No.” 

Everyone looks at Gojo. He thumbs at a rip in his kimono, grinning widely. It bares his teeth. 

“I’ll train with them,” he says.

“Gojo-sama—”

“I said I’d train with them. Now can we go? I want a popsicle.” 

The woman sighs. “Yes, Gojo-sama.” 

Gojo sweeps by you and your mother. He pauses right next to you. “You’re weak,” he tells you, ignoring the way you bristle, “but at least you’re fun.”  

He’s out the shoji before you can respond.

—

Summer settles over Kyoto, a wet lick of heat. Even the wind seems to feel it; it ripples honey-slow through the trees, barely strong enough to stir the air. Frogs move into the koi pond in the courtyard; they sing along with the cicadas’ sawing choir. 

“Catch it!” Gojo shouts as your hands spear through the murky pond water. It gushes free from between your fingers as you come up empty-handed, the frog you were aiming for frantically disappearing further below the surface. “You’re so slow.”

“Am not!”

“Are too,” he counters, holding out his cupped hands. A plaintive ribbit sounds out from between them. “I already caught one. It was easy.”

“You’re annoying.”

He stares at you, his blue eyes icy. “You’re annoying.”  

“You’re the one who came over.”

He rolls his eyes. “We train at your estate.”

“How come?”

“How come what?”

“How come we train here? Your estate is probably better.”

He shrugs, opening his hands enough to peer down at the frog. It glistens in the sunlight, the same deep green as the lush courtyard. It makes a break for freedom; he closes his hands again, his long fingers sewing the gap shut. “I like it better here.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Why?”

“I just do,” he says, voice flat.

You don’t ask again.

—

“Why are we here?”

Gojo blinks, his long white lashes sweeping over the sweet curve of his cheek. “Why are you whispering?”

Your cheeks heat. The Gojo estate is a sprawling, massive maw; you’ve felt devoured ever since you set foot in it. Even the golden light that slants through the shoji feels cold. There are ikebana arrangements lining the halls, the leggy, deep purple irises sculptural as they rise proudly from the vases, but it still feels like a mausoleum. 

“We’ve just never trained here before,” you say, taking care to use your regular voice. “So why are we here now?”

He shrugs. “They insisted.”

“Who?”

He dismisses the question with a wave of his hand, his long pianist’s fingers cutting through the air. You roll your eyes, long used to his occasionally imperious ways. The two of you continue along the hallways, you trailing after him closely, as if caught in his gravity, an orbiting moon. 

You almost run into him when he comes to a sudden halt. You peek around him—in the last few months, he’s gone through a growth spurt, one that your mother says will come when you’re his age, and he’s too tall to peer over his shoulder—and see a servant bowing low, her ebony hair glinting.

“Gojo-sama,” she says. “Please follow me. The elders are waiting.”

He sighs, a dramatic heave of his chest. “What do they want?”

“They didn’t specify.”

“Ugh.”

“Gojo-sama—”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he says. “Go tell those geezers I’ll be there soon.” 

You wince right along with the servant. Gojo’s disdain for the elders is not new, but it still unnerves you every time, as if they will come along and smite you down. 

“C’mon,” Gojo says to you. “Let’s get it over with.”

The servant clears her throat. “Only you, Gojo-sama.”

He glares, his blue eyes burning, a comet streaking through the sky. “No,” he says. “They’re coming.”

“They cannot.”

“I said they’re coming.” 

“It’s okay,” you tell him, eyes wide. “Really.” 

Gojo looks back at you. For a second, his mouth is a wound, tender and pink, but in the next breath, it’s gone, frozen under a layer of ice.

“Fine.” 

You bite your lip, but he’s already walking away. You catch yourself before you reach for him. He disappears down the hallway, his hair glinting like exposed bone.

The servant turns to you. “This way,” she says, her voice perfectly neutral.

You follow her to an empty room; she slides the shoji shut behind herself as you settle onto the cushion at the chabudai. You gaze around the room. There’s not much to take in; it’s wealthy in a subdued way. You fidget with the hem of your sleeve and then get to your feet.

You slide open the shoji leading out to the engawa; it opens onto a huge, lush courtyard. The plush flowers are weighted down by their own blooms, their stems curving like a dancer’s back. A shishi-odoshi rings out with a hollow thud; a few songbirds scatter, their wings rustling like leaves as they soar towards the sky. 

You step out onto the engawa. It’s still early enough that the sun slants onto the wood, warming it. You sit down and bask in it, tilting your face up for the sun’s sweet kiss. You lay back, your eyes fluttering shut.

A voice wakes you.

“He’s an insolent brat!” a man hisses. “He needs to be taken in hand!”

“He’s too powerful,” another man answers. His voice is calm, but you can sense the ripples in it, the thing lurking underneath. “We can only do what we’re already doing.”

You go still. They can only be talking about Gojo. Their footsteps echo; they’re drawing closer and closer.

“It’s not enough.” 

“He’s still young. Maybe we can mold him.” 

The first man snorts. “You don’t believe that.”

“No, I don’t.” 

“There’s something wrong with that boy,” the first man says. “Those eyes—that power—and not even a hint of a mark. He’s barely human.”

Their footsteps are starting to fade; their voices become murmurs. But you still hear it when the second man says:

“I don’t think he’s human at all.”

Then they’re gone, fading from your world like malevolent spirits, dissipating on the wind. You unclench your fists and find that your nails have bitten into your skin, little half-moon curves cutting through the leylines of your palms. 

Gojo shows up a mere minute later. He slides open the shoji with a bang; his eyes find you immediately. 

“C’mon,” he says, stepping out into the courtyard. His eyes are shadowed; his lips are pulled tight, an unstitched wound. He’s heard them, you realize. You’ve never seen him bothered by other people’s opinions; your chest aches, a pressed bruise. You open your mouth to say something, but you can’t find the words. 

He grabs your hand as he passes by you, tugging you along behind him, ignoring your surprised yelp. “Let’s go before those stupid geezers find me again.” 

“Where are we going?”

“Away from here.”

“But my shoes—”

He glances back at you and you drown in blue. 

“Okay,” you say quietly. “Let’s go.” 

He doesn’t answer; he just tugs you along. You stare at the back of his head for a moment, trying to make sense of the expression you’d seen flash across his face before he’d turned around again. You can’t understand it, but you know one thing.

He’s never looked more human to you.

—

The next time you see him, you’re prepared.

You uncap the marker with your teeth. You reach out for Gojo’s arm; he pulls away before you can grab hold, as quick as a darting fish. 

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Give me your arm.” 

“Why?”

“You’ll see.” 

He eyes you for a moment, but gives you his arm.

You push up his yukata sleeve to expose the tender underbelly of his wrist. You start to write, laboring over each stroke of the marker, keeping it as neat as you can. The silver ink covers the rivers of his blue-green veins as it sinks into his skin, a childish tattoo. 

“There,” you say, finishing with a somewhat-shaky flourish. “Now you have a mark.”

Gojo stares at you, his cerulean gaze lit from within, the sea beneath the sun. He covers the katakana of your name with his free hand, careful not to smudge the still-drying characters. Under the shadow, they fade to gray, but they still glint and glimmer the same way real soulmarks do. 

You hum, pleased with yourself, cap the marker, and toss it to the side so you can start training. 

You don’t know it yet, but it’s your last session with him. He disappears into the dawn like a fading star, spirited off to Tokyo to continue his training. You’ve only spent six months with him. Still, it aches, a pressed bruise, but you’ve always known he would outgrow you; his power is a black hole, always devouring. 

Life, ever unmoved, continues on. 

The boy you knew fades from your memories, though you never forget him. It’s impossible, with the stories that come out of Tokyo, how he completes missions that no one his age should be able to handle. 

Still, you forget things. The tilt of his mouth; the cadence of his voice. He becomes a shadow of himself, a shade with burning blue eyes. 

You forget that you once wrote your name on the delicate inside of his wrist. 

Gojo, though—

Gojo never does.

[diejager]

Saccharine and Monstrosity pt.1

Pairing: Eldritch Horror!König x mermaid!reader

Cw: kidnapping, manipulation, DARK FIC, trap, luring, mention of breeding kink, protective König, mention of partial nudity, hunting, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 4K

I got inspired by @konigsblog ‘s post.

You enjoyed the sun as much as any other betta fish mermaid, laying on the warm rocks and bathing under the bright, yellow sun. You lived in a school of fish that moved near the shores of a tropical island a few generations before, building houses under the coral reef and rocks where newly placed branches would grow and work as a natural shield. The world you lived in - the part of the ocean you called your home - was bright and colourful, the shallow waters clear and gleaming under the warming sun.

You liked all things bright and colourful, either big or small, you decorated your part of the cave with things you found while swimming around your territory. Be it a golden coin shining on the ocean floor, or a shard of coloured glass, you picked it all up and stuck it around your room. Sometimes, you found pretty things near the limits of your home, and other times, you ventured closer to the edge of the darkness when something shiny caught your attention. 

Over the ridge of sand that drew the start of the darkness, that deep and menacing slope down to the deepest part of your ocean, where darker, meaner and cruel beings born of cruelty and madness lived. It was somewhere all mers were warned of, to stay far away from the darkness and never stray from the light that fed and protected you. You thrived in the light, your body absorbing the warmth from the sun that made your scales vibrant and feeding from the fauna and flora that lived beside you: seaweeds and small fishes. 

Your kind grew up with stories of horrifying monsters and cruel creatures that lived in that abyss, lingering near the shallow to catch a pretty, little mer for their hoard. Whatever became of the taken was still unknown, once a mer was taken by One, no one would hear from them from then on. Your parents had warned you about straying too close from the shallow, daring fate when you swam over the ridge to collect those pretty gems you fancied so much.

“Don’t worry,” you’d grin at her, fins flickering behind you. “I’m a fast swimmer, mom!”

You were a fast swimmer, slipping between rocks and corals, hands cradling your little shells while you fled from the dark, twisting over the ridge and vanishing between the corals. That’s what you did most days, picking up people’s trash to make it your treasure, fingers cleaning the sand off the holes and crevasses before sticking them to your walls. You also tinkered with metal creations you found, a silver fork or a rusted-looking instrument. 

Granted, you joined in hunts, catching sardines and herrings, claws digging into its scaled bodies and teeth ripping into its flesh, the only other taste being sea salt, or bathed under the sun, but you preferred scavenging for loot. Although mers hunted alone, most found it easier to do it in groups, swarming shoals of fish and catching in a group of a dozen at a time for your little colony. So when you were fed and rested, you were back out, treading the line between the shallow and the abyss.

You swam slowly, head turning left and right for anything that would catch your attention, for that small glint hidden under a thin veil of sand or a long metallic object sticking out from the ground. You already had a few things in your arms, a few shells, human objects thrown overboard or floated into the sea, and small treasures: white pearls. You picked things up from both sides, mind in a comfortable and pleasant space, prideful of your catch so far that you were oblivious of the eyes following your colourful body. 

His pale eyes wandered over your puffy cheeks and sweet lips, those squinted eyes in mirth as you searched for more. He went down the curve of your shoulders and the swell of your breasts, perky nipples covered by pretty shells, over your soft stomach and that bright, colourful tail of yours that first caught his attention. Every scale glistened under the sun, reflecting the light on the sand while you swam, your fins curving with the twist of your tail. 

You were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, an angel collecting treasure, just like he did. He saw the batch in your arms, clutched between your breasts when you dove to pick something up on his side. You were as adorable and innocent as you were pretty, your action oblivious of his predatory eyes, dipping into his territory without fear of retribution on his part. He liked that bold and daring attitude of yours, fitting for someone so courageously bright and flashing your bold colours to him. 

If he were to drop something closer to him, would you still swim towards it or ignore it for something closer to the ridge? If he hid until you were close enough, would he be able to wrap his limb around you? To feel your soft skin and coarse scales under his slimy arm. He was glad he decided to hunt today, searching for both prey - mer or fish, he isn’t picky about what he ate - and treasure. Hidden under a couple of tentacles, he dropped a golden coin a few feet away from him, his veil and the darkness helping him hide from your sight. 

His heart soared when he saw your eyes widen, a smile curling at the corners of your lips when you saw his little coin, diving towards him with enthusiasm. You were so close to him, hand stretching to grab the object with small, clawed fingers. When you held it in your hand, appraising it, he felt pride bubble in his chest, rising to his mind as he took this occasion to get his arm around you. You flinched when he wrapped the tip of his tentacle around your tail, squirming around in terror. In a panicked struggle to escape him, you dropped everything you’d collected and fled from him with a cry.

He watched you swim away from him through saddened eyes, hearing the thudding from the things you dropped, even the coin he gifted you. His eyes never left your fleeing body until you jumped over the edge, your tail the last thing he saw in that moment of self-deprivation and sadness. He hoped you’d come back, forgetting the fear of his sudden attention and daring fate once more.

He came the next day and the day after that, but you weren’t there, your precious smile and happy eyes were a memory in his mind, a fleeting moment in his gloomy world. He came back every day, hiding in the darkness, on the line between pitch darkness and light shading. He wished you were there every day, his eyes bleeding with optimism and hope for a single smidgen of bright colours. 

He hadn’t seen you in the following week. His shoulders slumped and caved into himself in sadness every time he came by, his blue eyes dulling bit by bit, that hopeful thinking drowning under realistic thinking and a pessimistic mind. Then he caught a glimpse of colour against the white sand. Before long, he saw arms filled with shiny items, trailing nearer to your side than his, but still chasing for treasures. 

If he wanted to approach you, to touch your soft-looking skin and run his arms over your scaled tail, he’d have to find a way to lure you in. He watched you the first few days, his tentacles curling on itself and burying himself in the sand, the hundreds of suckers searching for buried treasures to leave for you. When you turned your back to him, his unwinding arm left the things he found near the ridge for you to find and take. Little gifts for you, courting gifts he left and gifted you in an attempt to woo you. 

You were skittish and fleeing but took all his gifts with shaky smiles and grateful eyes, you knew he gave them to you. Of course, you did, you were his brave and smart little mermaid, approaching his offerings with apprehension - he felt hurt you feared and got nervous around him, but he understood you, his kind ate yours - and scanned the sand around you for any danger before crossing the line. He felt giddy when you added them to your stack, his mind-blowing with dreams and thoughts of you decorating your little cave with the things he gave you. On the ceiling, against the wall and on the ground or surfaces, you would use the things he gave you for your home. 

It sent him up the walls of his caves with joy and excitement, his limbs curling to rearrange his home to prepare for you, to accommodate your arrival to his big, lonely home.

It took a week or two - or so he thought, his perception of time was and had always been warped in some way - before you became comfortable enough to approach him, to let him curl his slimy tentacle around your tail and up your body. He could finally feel you and it made him ecstatic - he was over the moon every time he got to touch you. Little pokes, fleeting squeezes and feathery bites from his suckers on your flesh, all things he let himself taste before your coupling. A coupling between the prettiest and the cruellest beings in the ocean would unwind the seams that made your worlds, pulling the string that separated the beauty and the beast in this cursed universe.

Granted, you hesitated to cross into the pitch darkness of the abyss, dancing just a few inches from his abode with an armful of trinkets from König. Your slow and steady breath, words you blessed him with when you muttered to him, calling out to know if he was there and your grateful grin were a common, yet welcome sight in his daily swim. While a bit reluctant to join him on the other side, you eventually swam across, your eyes melting into the black before you. You were unseeing as much as you were blind, if not for the guiding palm of the Eldritch creature that you befriended and the shine of treasure you saw around him. 

You wished you could see anything but the gleam of treasure and the black mist of the abyss, your hand wandered over his, searching for his body, to feel the one who’s been gifting you treasures. Your fingers trailed upwards, feeling the tightness of his muscles, the curves and hardness of his arms were sinful. You truly wished you could see him at this moment, but you kept at your advance, clawed fingers moving slowly with unbridled curiosity. When you reached his broad shoulders and well-pronounced chest, it rumbled, a purr coming from König. Its deep sound shook you with need, your tail enthusiastically moving back and forth as you listened to him. 

“Are you happy, Schatz?”

His voice was even better than his soft purrs, in a way that made you want to melt into his arms and never bother moving if he kept talking to you, the sound of the creature that gave you gifts and affection. König’s spine-chilling voice seemed like a mix of many voices, both soft and raspy, and both deep and smooth, but it was something you enjoyed, that you found yourself liking a bit too much. 

“Yes,” you breathed, eyes travelling skyward, towards the source of his voice.

Your breath caught in your throat, choking a gasp at the prettiest blues you’d seen staring down at you. They were majestic, gem-like with a pretty sheen that made them glow like a beacon of light. You wondered why you’d never seen them, seeing how bright his eyes were. They lit up his face, or the veil he wore over his face, showing the pale streak of makeshift tears down the incision he made for his eyes. You shamelessly admired him, unbothered by the lost puppy-like stare you gave him in your glowing beauty. 

You’d crossed a threshold, where a creature of light never dared to cross, stepping into the arms of an Old One and embracing their madness. Although you were oblivious to his intentions, the loud proclamation of his courting rituals and attempts of crying out his love - the Old One’s rituals and cultures were much of a mystery to those who didn’t study them, much of a taboo for anyone outside of delusion and greed - he hadn’t refrained from his deliberate show that would be nearly shameful and embarrassing to others of his kind. 

Some wouldn’t bother with such frivolous acts: confessions from the deepest part of their dark soul, proclamation of love and undying adoration, or having to scavenge for gifts - offerings - to the subject of their attention. His kind took and took, reaching for that small glimmer of hope and beauty and corrupted it, bending it to their liking and building something from the ashes. It wouldn’t - would never - be the same as they were before, but that was how the Old Ones liked it: control, corruption, ruin, madness and power.

König wouldn’t do that, he wanted to cherish you, add to what you were and watch it bloom like those bioluminescent creatures in the abyss; even against his creator’s wishes. He’ll put you on the highest pedestal he has, eternally imprinting the image of you as his most precious treasure into his mind. You’ll be a thing of miracles, a thing of blessings, a thing of new beginnings. He wanted all and everything with you, but he’d have to take it slow, to coax you into this redundant pattern that ensured your trust and comfort and have you follow him of your own volition. 

He doesn’t mind waiting, he’s had hundreds of years of sitting and waiting, patience was a virtue he grew to learn, to hold in his giant palm and clutch like a gift from the ever-growing, chaotic universe. He can wait and plan, so he will, König will lay down his plan and wait until he can bring it to reality.

Wait he did, for you to grow comfortable enough to follow him deeper and let him pull you in from your side. It took you a month of back and forth, squirming around your infatuation with König and exchanging trinkets, words and fleeting kisses with him. He adored your little giggles when he traced your sides with a bolt tentacle, curling under your plush tits and the tip sliding under your strap. He loved the pretty shells you gave him, cleaned from sand and any barnacles, it showed him how much time you spent on it for him. His heart bloomed and swelled to impossible heights when you pecked his lips, giving him shy and gentle kisses that he grew addicted to. 

You were so sweet and so soft, your lips the taste of heaven for a creature of madness. Your hands were gentle like a cool balm over a burn, soothing his wild thoughts. Your little gifts for him - reciprocating his affection - were currently the most important things in his cave, a sign of your love and devotion. It made him wonder what would you let him do once you gave yourself to him. Would you succumb to the everlasting pleasures he could give you, or would you demand to help him take care of his own in a mutual haze? He couldn’t help himself, letting his chaotic mind conjure the most absurd and erotic dreams, his body vibrating with excitement; and now, at the peak of your trust in him, he watched his plan - a well-placed trap - come to fruition. 

“Come, Schatz,” he beckoned you forward, his burly arm stretching to coax you to follow him, holding out his open palm to you. “I have something I want to show you. Pretty things.”

Without a thought, to question his intentions or to ask why he couldn’t have bought them for you like he usually did, you took his hand and let his fingers curl over yours, intertwining your smaller digits to his as he pulled you to his chest. His embrace was as safe and pleasant as the last one - yesterday - and caused a flurry of emotions to erupt in your chest, he was warm in the cool darkness, loving in all the ways you could think. You could close your eyes and imagine a smile rippling across his face with joyfully squinted eyes peering down at you. 

Held against his chest, his other arm wrapped around your waist with a firm squeeze of his hand where your skin turned to scales. He whispered sweet promises, words of encouragement to see the way to his home and excited explanations of what awaited you. Pretty things, he said, you knew what he meant - at least you think you did - you shared much in common, and pretty things were something you both agreed on: shiny metals, interesting trinkets, shimmering shells or finely-minted coins. All things humans valued before throwing away; one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. 

How unfortunate that you couldn’t see in the dark, yet how fortunate you wouldn’t know the way back, it was something he relied on heavily to keep you, if you didn’t know how to navigate in this utter blindness, there were no risks of you trying to escape his caring hand. You were smart, you wouldn’t simply venture off without knowing where to go and how to see, especially with how vast his territory was and how dangerous it was. He shared his home with other simple-minded animals, sharks, fishes, eels and any other abyssal creature that lived and depended on the dark to live. 

Your innocent curiosity about the things he deemed pretty enough to hoard made his heartbeat, that addicting feeling he got from touching you, kissing you and speaking to you. Even if the deeper he went, the colder it became, you never once complained, your wide eyes and grinning face were the only thing you gave him. He was truly relieved to know that you were patient and understanding of his home, not one hiss or pout while you shook and clung to him, depending on him for warmth. He liked that, to see you rely on him so much. 

“We’re here, mein Liebling,” he hushed, cradling your face as he dove down, through the entrance of his cave. He shielded your fragile body with his many arms, protecting you from the rush of water current flowing against him. He chose this one to build his nest, using the strong current as a natural barrier against weaker creatures. 

When the waters calmed to a still, he loosened his hold on you, unravelling his arms to let you explore the many passages and alcoves in his home. To accommodate you, he strung up bioluminescent flora, using them as light to find your way around, with silken algae over a few rocks to mimic the beds mers slept in and a few other things that he thought you’d need: a mirror, a few floating plants to add to its mystical beauty and clusters of soft materials in nearly every room. 

He let you wander, your tail flapping back and forth to lead you down the long hall and explore the many rooms. He used a room to sleep, one as a pantry and storage, and another one to hold his hoard, but he had a lot of empty and unused space, more than enough for you and your children to thrive. He wanted to let you roam at your own pace, but he had something to show you, something he was proud of making. 

He pulled you from your little cloud of joy, wrapping an arm around you, his sticky suckers latching onto you as he coaxed you his way. Only then had you taken the time to admire König under blue light, cheeks warm with a burning flush and doe-like eyes staring at the naked expense of his hard abdomen, stomach sculpted to perfection that had Adonis shying away. His arms were big and round, muscles straining the scarred skin with delicious appeal. 

Downwards, following the sharp dip of his navel, were dozens of dark tentacles lined with round, pulsing suckers. Like an octopus, they were covered in a slimy sheen, every limb flexible and able to move independently. The lower ones were thick and soft, acting as a cover for whatever he hid beneath them, while some were thinner, whose source came from under his veil. Those, however, were a mix of normal and horrific tentacles, some had eyes replacing the usual suckers, tinted in the same colour as his irises, that glowing, pale blue. 

It made your body heat up, fingers tingling with nerves - or was it? When faced with something you found appealing, it’d be natural to feel flustered, no? König thought so, that’s how he spent the first days reacting to you, heating up to a bothersome flush to everything you did. He watched your awed stare, that daydreaming haze in your eyes when you looked him over, his whole body clear under the gentle light in his cave. 

“This way.”

Without making your gaze leave his figure, he drew you in, heading towards his biggest room where he caught and strung everything to fit his pleasure and mood. It was somewhere deeper into the system with walls strong and sturdy, and the round ceiling higher than the other rooms. On one side was a pile of golden objects of all shades, light yellow to a darkish gold, nearly bronze; on the other was a mix of pretty silver things and metallic black objects, rusted by age and the salty ocean; and on another, the smallest of them all, comprised of a few dozens of colourful shells and corals frozen in time that you’d given him. 

He saw your chest expand, your smile growing brighter and brighter at the pile of gifts you gave him, your bubbly laugh as you swam towards it, twirling around it proudly. You looked around the room, admiring his large collection and how it seemed to spill down every pile in an attempt to reach the other one, forming a protective ring around your presents, but always coming back to the bright pink, blue and yellow shells. You were happy and appreciative of the time he spent working and arranging his hoard. If he could, he’d preen and purr to you, to show just how much your proud smile meant to him, watching you appraise his work was satisfying. 

He already felt like things were falling into place perfectly, he could see the life he had envisioned with you coming to life, the little intricacies that popped into his mind seeming too appealing. His dreams were slowly becoming a reality, the things that he could only imagine were now tangible to his hands, and the future he salivated at was so, so close that he could sink his teeth into its flesh. 

He knew it. He knew it when he watched you swim to him with that big, adorable smile on your face, that it was in his hands. He could see it now, how his lonely cave would be filled with life and laughter, children with a mix of your beauty and his madness chasing one another between the many openings and your round, swollen stomach welcoming another of your children to the world. That was all he could think of while he cradled you in his arms, his tentacles latching to your tail and back. 

“You’re happy, ja?”

Next

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @candlewitch-cryptic @im-making-an-effort @0alk0msan 

[artemiseamoon]

Under a Golden Sun - Finale

Daniel (omc) x f rrader | Benny Miller x ofc

Words: 2,357

Warnings: none I can think of

Fic info | read in full on on A03 (Artemiseamoon)

Led by the smell of fresh coffee, you make your way down the hall and to the kitchen. When you reached the kitchen, you slipped your arms around Benny as he poured coffee into one of the cups.

He hums as you rest your cheek against his back. Your voice is groggy as words fall from your lips, “come back to bed.”

Benny gives your arm a little squeeze as he smiles. When your name leaves your lips, you melt against him even more, you love the sound of his voice - you’ve missed it. The richness of it settles deep into the fibers of your heart and roots in your bones.

Benny abandoned the task at hand and turned in your arms to face you. You gaze up at him as he holds you.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this babe? Wanted you?”

“Tell me, "You coo, “I love to hear it.”

Benny smiled wider; his blue eyes more hypnotic than ever; deep blue oceans you feel yourself getting lost in by the second.

When he speaks next, it's more like a song, a song just for you, “I’ll tell you a thousand times.”

His arms secured around you, you and Benny kiss as you walk back to the bedroom.

As you enter the room, Daniel stirs, and slowly wakes. You jump in the bed and kiss him on the lips,

“Let’s stay here a while.” You suggest.

With a sleepy gaze, Daniel grinned and rested his head back against the pillow. He guided your head to his chest.

“I’m cold, you have to warm me up.”

“As you wish,” you draped your arm, and a leg across Daniel.

Benny gets in bed next and holds you from behind.

More on A03

More Benny on my masterlist

No tags | sign up for notifs/ follow @artemiseamoon-updates + A03 (subscribe there)

[finelinevogue]

hi!! can I get an azriel fic where he and the reader had a fight before a battle or mission and then she is presumed dead so he spends his days spiraling with guilt and he misses her a lot and that stuff. And then when she makes it back he finally confesses his feelings to her and happy ending :) bonus if she's rhys' sister but not necessary. thank u so much and happy new year!!

please come back

thank you so much for your request - i hope this lived up to expectations since i’ve wanted to write a fic like this for ages 💫

word count - 1.6k

“Where is she?”

“Az.. We… We don’t—.”

“I said where is she?” Azriel bellowed, readying Truthteller for anything.

Rhys rubbed a bloody hand over his chin whilst Cassian hung his head low.

Rhys looked at Azriel with those deep violet eyes, conveying a whole conversation to him without having to use any words.

Truthteller dropped to the ground.

Azriel followed.

His knees let out an earth shattering crack as he crumbled onto the floor. His whole body went slack, his entire demeanour changing from how he had been seconds before.

How evil a few seconds could turn life into.

“No.” He whispered to the wind.

“Az…”

“No!” He screamed, spit and blood flying from his lips - blood from the battle which he didn’t feel like they’d won anymore.

Why had any of that been worth it?

Days of war and fighting, and for what?

The peace and safety of the Night Court wad restored once more, but was life worth truly living without his person living beside him? He couldn’t even comprehend the thought of figuring that question out.

He could feel the bond slipping away. That once golden-feel thread, rusting and greying away.

Azriel tried pulling on the bond with all he had, whispering pleads under his breath. “Please, please.” He pulled and pulled, but the void when nothing pulled back was too empty to deal with.

“I’m sorry, brother.” Rhys said, kneeling down in front of Azriel. “I’m sorry.”

“Tell me it isn’t true.” Azriel looked from his blood-caked hands and into his brother’s eyes once more.

Azriel’s own eyes pooled with tears. He didn’t think he had any energy left to think, let alone cry and yet the tears would not stop falling.

His body rocked as his cries took over him.

He felt like the world was ending and he was ending with it.

He pulled that bond again, wishing for anything to give him a sign that you were at least trying to pull back - to give Azriel reason to believe you were still there - but all he felt was nothing.

🦇 • 🤎• 🦇

The sun was setting when Azriel woke up.

He sat up in your once shared bed, holding himself up by his hands behind him.

He looked from the setting sun to your side of the bed. He’d set up your pillows so it looked like your body was underneath the sheets. They had dents in from where he’d been holding them at night - trying to replicate the feeling of you.

He can’t believe you were gone.

Azriel took one of his hands and placed it over his heart, tugging at that thread - he wasn’t giving it up so easily. He could feel it still there, only it felt distant. Distant didn’t mean forever gone, though.

And so he pulled.

Every morning - or evening - he rose, he pulled.

🦇 • 🤎• 🦇

“You look…” Cassian started as Azriel entered the kitchen.

Cassian was sat at the table eating some bread and sauce - forever snacking.

“Handsome?” Azriel asked in a teasing voice

“You don’t want me to answer that honestly.” Cassian shook his head, tearing off a bit of bread and throwing it across the table for Azriel to catch.

Azriel caught it with one hand and immediately took a bite from it. It didn’t take an intelligent someone to know that Cassian was just trying to make sure Azriel remembered to eat, seeing as he kept ‘forgetting to’ recently.

Azriel hadn’t attended family dinner in 2 days - the battle having ended 3 days ago.

Cassian was impressed that Azriel was even out of bed - proud, even.

“Answer me this, then.” Azriel counter offered, “If… If you thought there was still a small chance the bond was still alive between you and Nesta, even though she’d… gone, would you pull it? Persue it?”

“Without hesitation.” Cassian nodded.

Azriel nodded in agreement.

“Why—.”

“It’s nothing.” Azriel shook his head, leaving the bread on the table and disappearing from the room once more.

“What a weird guy.” Cassian spoke to no-one as he dipped his bread into a spicy-red sauce.

🦇 • 🤎• 🦇

You looked peaceful.

Madja had dressed you in lilac robes - traditional to your homeland for your upcoming memorial service.

You were lying to rest in a room away from the main part of the House of Wind. You looked so beautiful. Your Fae skin had not yet withered or cracked.

“Hello, my love.” Azriel said, brushing the tips of his fingers over your cheek.

Azriel had been coming down to speak to you every spare moment he had, not wanting to miss a single second he had to watch over you.

“Are you ready to come back yet?”

He tugged that bond and he tugged it hard.

🦇 • 🤎• 🦇

It was the third morning.

Azriel was at his desk, writing away as he often did in the mornings. His diary was the one constant - other than you - that he had always known he could turn to each day.

Now with you gone, he–

Mor burst through the door, panting like she’d run up the steps to reach the House of Wind.

Azriel hadn’t noticed he’d dropped his pen and spilt the ink everywhere. Mor had startled him, but his shadows had calmed him.

Mor caught her breath long enough for her to speak two words.

“She’s awake.”

And that’s when he noticed he could feel it; the bond.

🦇 • 🤎• 🦇

Azriel was running faster than he had ever before.

He sprinted down the halls, apologising when he knocked over a vase but continuing nevertheless.

When he approached the end of the hallway that led to that door, he spotted Rhys speaking to Madja just in front of it.

Azriel slowed down his pace until he was actually apprehensively approaching the door.

He looked at Madja first, needing medical reassurance more than anything. If this was real, how did the Mother pull this off? He would owe his soul for this.

Madja gave Azriel a knowing look that made Azriel want to crumple to the floor and kiss at the feet of the Gods.

Madja, Rhys and Mor stood beside the door as Azriel didn't waste a single moment more waiting behind the doors. He pushed them open widely and for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, he saw your eyes open.

You smiled at him from across the room and he was done for.

Azriel's shadows went into a frenzy to reach you and you laughed as they hugged and tickled you, moulding around your body in a protective cocoon.

"I came back." You said.

Azriel nodded, not understand how this was even possible. How was this possible? Could Madja even explain this phenomenon?

"You.. You were..."

"I know." You nodded sadly. "I can't imagine how that must have been for you."

"I pulled on the bond every other moment." Azriel walked towards you slowly, careful to tread carefully in case he blurred the dream that he was sure he was dreaming.

"I know." You rested your hand on your chest. "I could feel it."

"You could?"

"I'm certain that you brought me back, Az."

His shadows met back with him but only because he was so close to you now. Close enough to be able to reach out and make sure you were real.

He brought a scarred hand up to your cheek, hesitating in case this was some cruel trick. His hand hovered where he wanted to cup your cheek, like he was internally stuck with choosing what to do next.

"It's okay. I'm here."

You moved for him and pressed your skin into his.

Azriel gasped as he felt how real you were beneath his own body. He quickly brought his other hand to cup your other cheek and greedily bring your lips close to his so he could seal this moment with a kiss.

The kiss poured all of his love for you back into him.

He felt that bond grow tighter in his chest, begging to burst out and fill the room with the endless happy that you brought him.

"You're here." He said between kisses, not letting you go for a moment.

"I am."

Azriel's kisses were hungry and desperate. It was almost like he refused to believe this was real and that he would lose you the moment he stopped. As much as you loved him and his kisses, you did need to breathe and so you reluctantly pulled away.

"No..." Azriel whined, desperate to pull you back.

You cupped his cheeks this time, grounding him to you. "Hey, sweetheart, I am here. I am right here. We have all the time in the world. I'm okay."

"We're okay." And he sealed the fact with another kiss.

🦇 • 🤎• 🦇

"Az, get off!"

You laughed as you tried to push him off of your side of the bed.

"You're too big." You grunted as you tried to move him off you, but he was too big of a lump of muscle to move. Of course you were only struggling to suffer - you actually quite enjoyed the feeling of him on you. If it comforted him then it comforted you.

"I am, aren't I." He said cheekily, like a teen Illyrian.

"Ugh." You rolled your eyes, but were glad to see he'd gotten his spark back. "I give up."

You stayed laid down, Azriel's body completely wrapped over yours and his legs intertwined with yours. His arms were wrapped so snug around you that you couldn't move even if you did want to. Seemed like he was attached to you from here until forever.

"Good." He said. "Now, let's sleep."

He gave one last tug on the bond before you tried to go to sleep and he was only comfortable enough to go to sleep when he felt you tug back.

[thesecondhandwoman]

hellooo i saw you were looking for requests!! i’ve been dying for some domestic caitvi as moms fics, if you wanna run with that!!

MOTHERLY LOVE

Caitlyn x Vi x kid f!reader

Synopsis: You were Caitlyn’s and Vi’s little kiddo, and they loved you with all their hearts. Today, like every other, showed just how much they truly did.

Request: Anon 🤍

A/N: Just to clarify, again, this isn’t a ship with a child, it is just the fanfic scenario. Also, in this scenario, mama is Vi, mommy is Caitlyn.

The morning sun peeked through the curtains, casting soft golden stripes across the kitchen floor. It smelled like vanilla and sugar, and the faint sizzle of batter on a pan was the first sound you heard. Your nose twitched as you slowly woke up, eyes still heavy with sleep.

Bun-Bun, a stuffed bunny that your Mama Vi gave you as a little baby, was tucked firmly under your arm, his soft bunny ears draped over your face like a second pillow. You hugged him closer, not quite ready to leave your cocoon of warmth.

“Kiddo, breakfast is almost ready,” came a familiar, raspy voice from down the hall. It was mama—loud, warm, and always just a little rough around the edges. You could hear her footsteps getting closer.

You kept your eyes shut tight.

“Don’t make me come in there,” she teased, voice full of playful warning.

You burrowed deeper into the blanket, whispering to Bun-Bun, “Shh, she can’t see us if we don’t move.”

The door creaked open. “I can hear you, y’know,” Vi said, stepping inside. She crouched down next to the bed, grinning like a mischievous fox. “Last chance, bunny squad. Up or I’m carryin’ you to breakfast upside down.”

You peeked one eye open, meeting her smirk with a little giggle. “You wouldn’t dare, mama!”

“Try me,” she challenged, raising an eyebrow.

With a dramatic sigh, you sat up, still clutching Bun-Bun to your chest. “Okay, okay, I’m up, mama. No upside-down rides today, please.”

“Smart choice, kid.” Vi ruffled your hair, messing it up worse than it already was. “C’mon, Mommy’s makin’ pancakes, and you know she doesn’t let me near the stove.”

That got you moving. You slid off the bed, dragging Bun-Bun along, his floppy ears trailing behind you like a royal cape.

In the kitchen, Caitlyn was at the stove, her braid pulled neatly over one shoulder. Her focus was sharp, every flip of the pancake precise. She glanced over her shoulder as you shuffled in, her eyes softening instantly.

“Good morning, darling,” she said, wiping her hands on a towel before crouching down to your level. Her arms opened, and you ran into them without hesitation, squishing Bun-Bun between you. She kissed your cheek, her hands warm and steady on your back. “Did you sleep well?”

“Bun-Bun had a bad dream,” you mumbled into her shoulder.

Caitlyn pulled back just enough to look at you, her eyes scanning your face with quiet concern. “Did he? Poor Bun-Bun,” she said, brushing her thumb over your cheek. “Good thing he had you to keep him safe.”

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “But I think he needs extra pancakes to feel better.”

Caitlyn’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Oh, does he now? Well, I suppose we can manage that.” She kissed your forehead, then stood, guiding you toward the kitchen table.

Vi was already sitting there, arms stretched out behind her head like she had all the time in the world. She grinned as you sat down next to her, placing Bun-Bun in your lap.

“Hey, guess what?” Vi leaned over, her eyes wide with mock seriousness. “I called dibs on the first pancake.”

“Hey! No fair!” you pouted, hugging Bun-Bun protectively. “Mommy, tell Mama she can’t call dibs!”

“Vi, don’t antagonize her,” Caitlyn said, setting a fresh plate of pancakes on the table. “You know she always gets the first one.”

“Ah, fine,” Vi grumbled, shooting you a wink. “You win this time, kiddo.”

“I always win,” you said with a grin, digging into the warm, buttery pancake Caitlyn set in front of you. You made sure to give Bun-Bun a “bite” too, pressing a tiny piece of pancake to his face before eating it yourself.

Vi chuckled. “That bunny eats better than I do.”

“That’s because Bun-Bun’s a prince,” you said proudly, offering him another “bite.”

Caitlyn’s quiet laugh filled the kitchen, a sound as warm as the sun on your face.

The rain came out of nowhere that afternoon. One minute, the sky was bright and blue, and the next, it was a gray blanket pouring water over everything. Raindrops raced each other down the window, and thunder rolled softly in the distance.

You sat on the floor of the living room, Bun-Bun firmly in your lap, surrounded by crayons, markers, and a sea of paper. You were drawing the “Royal Kingdom of Bun-Bun”—complete with castles, forests, and a secret lair for Vi (she said every kingdom needed one).

Caitlyn sat on the couch behind you, a book in her lap, her eyes occasionally flicking up to check on you. Her presence was a calm, steady hum in the background, like the heartbeat of the house.

“Hey, look!” you said, holding up your newest masterpiece. “This is Bun-Bun’s royal castle. See? There’s a slide that goes straight to the pancake room.”

“Brilliant design choice,” Caitlyn said, tilting her head to study it like it was fine art. “I think you might be an architect when you grow up.”

“Or a pancake chef like you, mommy,” you added.

“Or both,” she replied, eyes crinkling with pride.

“Hey, what about me?” Vi said, flopping onto the floor beside you, her head resting on her arm. “Where’s my secret lair?”

“Right here,” you pointed to a small, cave-like drawing at the edge of the page. “You get your own lair ‘cause you’re a sneaky spy.”

Vi’s eyes lit up. “Sneaky spy, huh? I like it.”

“You better like it,” you said, puffing up with pride. “It took me forever to draw the door right.”

Vi grinned, tapping Bun-Bun on the head. “You’re a visionary, kid. Bun-Bun picked a good family.”

When the thunder cracked loudly that night, you shot up in bed, heart thudding in your chest. Bun-Bun was clutched tight to your chest, his little button eyes staring blankly ahead.

For a second, you debated being brave. But another rumble shook the sky, and all your bravery crumbled.

Your small feet hit the floor, and you shuffled toward the hallway, Bun-Bun’s ears trailing behind you. You knew exactly where to go.

Vi and Caitlyn’s bedroom door was slightly open, the soft glow of a bedside lamp peeking through. You nudged it open slowly, peeking in.

“Hey, little bunny,” Caitlyn’s voice came softly from the bed. She was already sitting up, holding out her arms. “Come here, darling.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You climbed onto the bed, dragging Bun-Bun with you, and snuggled into her lap. Caitlyn’s arms wrapped around you, warm and strong. Her hand stroked your hair slowly, the same way she always did when you were scared.

Vi stirred beside her, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Storm getcha, huh, kiddo?” she mumbled, voice still thick with sleep.

You nodded, burying your face in Caitlyn’s shoulder. “It’s loud.”

“Yeah, it is,” Vi said, scooting closer. She draped her arm over both of you, a big, safe weight that made the world feel smaller and safer. “Don’t worry, though. It’s just sky stuff. It’s got nothin’ on us.”

“Not on Bun-Bun either,” you mumbled, lifting him up so his little face was visible.

“Definitely not on Bun-Bun,” Caitlyn agreed, kissing the top of your head. “You’re safe here, love. Always.”

“Always,” Vi echoed, giving Bun-Bun a soft high-five. “We got you.”

Snuggled between them, with Bun-Bun safe in your arms, you felt the world get quieter. The thunder was still there, but it didn’t feel as big or as scary anymore.

Your eyes grew heavy, lulled by the warmth of your family and the quiet hum of their voices. Before you drifted off, you let out a tiny yawn and mumbled, “Love you, Mommy. Love you, Mama.”

“Love you too, baby bunny,” Caitlyn whispered.

“Love you more, squirt,” Vi added, pulling the blanket up over you.

And just like that, the world felt perfect again, safe with your mothers.

A/N: To make this even more heartwarming/wrenching, Bun-Bun was inspired by Jinx’s bunny in season one (which is why it is noted that Vi gave it to the reader).

[grugruel]

Not sure if this is where we can send in requests but you write so beautifully I truly cannot get over it.

Would it be possible to request a smut fic with Viktor from Arcane? Either way cannot wait to read your next fics 🩵

You really found the way to my heart with your kind words because I immediately had to write something for you🥹 I intended for it to be shorter, but it got away from me. I hope you like it!

Keeping Him Company

Pairings: Viktor x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: Viktor is still getting used to solitude after Jayce started down the public road.

So when you offer to keep him company, he gladly takes you up on it.

Wordcount: 3k

Warnings: fluff, angst ish, friends to lovers, pinv sex, cowgirl, oral sex (f receiving), feelings, plot with porn.

AN: Viktor is not a shy man, and I will die on that hill😭

"Dont you wish to be up there with him?"

Light spilled through a gap in the tall curtains, partly illuminating a man in hiding.

"It is not my within my talent," he said and slanted his lips, a thick accent curving his pronunciation.

The girl approached him, walking along the shadows edge. She was clad in a red and white ensamble, mirroring his own. "Everything is within your talent."

Casting a wistful glance at his leg, he doubted her words. "A simple misscalculation, im afraid. He shines, I do not . . ."

Booming from mighty speakers was the man of progress, holding a speech in front of thousands of people. The brief breaks to collect his breath allowed for them to hear the audience's reaction, and the collective whispers of expectant folk rolled through the crowd in waves.

She stopped next to him, hands clasped infront of her. "You're uninterested in the attention." She pitched her voice at the end, framing the statement as a question. Suspecting she already knew the answer.

"I do not enjoy it," he shrugged. "I prefer the practical part of our work."

"The solitude?"

He looked up at her, having had to sit down at some point during their conversation. The promise of dark circles had begun taking form beneath his eyes, painting a tired look onto his face.

"Hmm . . . The quiet if anything, I think. I've found myself in solitude more often than not since Jayce started handling the . . . public aspects," he explained and gestured broadly with one hand, encompassing the local. The entirety Piltover too, she imagined.

"You're happy with that?"

Bobbing his head from side to side, he could not agree nor disagree. "I like quiet, but I prefer the company. Jayce makes good company."

"Well," she began and reached out to him, pinching a piece of wild hair between her fingertips and arranged it back into shape with the rest of his dark waves. "If you find yourself in unwanted solitude, you can always send for me, Viktor. If nothing else, I might be able to help in the lab," she smiled. It was her specialty, after all.

They'd been friends since they enrolled in the academy, but learning under Heimerdinger rarely allowed them time to see eachother.

Straightening his cane, he heaved himself back on his feet.

She would offer him help, but knew it wouldn't be too appreciated.

Leaning on the support, the stream of light escaping the stage colored his face and set it aglow with warmth. "Thank you, . . ." he called her name and smiled. "I might do that."

He was a strong mind in a blighted body. The brightest often were.

-

It was late the next day when she'd gotten a message from Viktor.

Pushing the tall door open, the setting sun painted the spacious workroom in a dim golden light. On first inspection, one could've thought it abandoned. Books were strewn on every available surface, opened or stacked. Dust had already managed to settle on a few, and she guessed that they'd been deemed irrelevant to the two men's work at some point, then simply forgotten to time and unpaced space. "Viktor?" She called out.

"Over here," a thick accent answered. Venturing further inside, she found him by the colossal windows that held a view Piltover. To the side was a blackboard with rows upon rows of calculations. "Please, take a seat." He smiled and gestured toward one of the few chairs that were free of piling notes. "I'd like to show you what I have been working on."

-

And so the evening spilled into dusk, and dusk poured into night. There was nothing now but the dark sky and starlight illuminating the two of them.

"It is not correct," he tapped the chalk against the board and sighed, highlighting a specific problem to her eyes. He'd asked for her thoughts at some point, and ever since the two had been going back and forth trying to solve one particularly stubborn equation.

Settling down on the chair that she had long abandoned, Viktor wrapped his hands over the cane's handle and rested his chin on top. Exhausted eyes studied the same scribbles he'd gone over and over a hundred times before.

In unisome, they sighed.

Knowing glances were thrown each other's way, luring a chuckle from the both of them and gratefully releasing some of their tension. "Thank you, for lending me your mind this evening."

Pursing her lips, she moved in front of him and settled against the worktable. He was still facing the board, pondering the solution, and allowing her to look at him unabashedly. The strong jaw and sharp cheekbones, that pretty little mole above his lip and his perfectly half-wild hair. "I had a good time," she shrugged. "I should be the one thanking you." Unable to help herself, she leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on that angled cheekbone of his. "So, thank you, Viktor," she murmured.

Pushing herself to her feet, she reached out to grab her things, then moved to leave.

But a hand grabbed her wrist before she had the chance. "Thank you for keeping me company, . . ." Viktor said, voice sliding lower with each word until her name spilled from his lips in a whisper.

Her eyes switched between his, attempting to determine if there was an ulterior meaning his words. Looking down at their hands, she noticed his thumb stroking the thin skin at her wrist. Clearing her throat, she swallowed. "You didn't invite me here just to theorise, did you, Viktor?"

He followed her gaze and inspected the hand he held in his. "I like the quiet," he said, gently toying with her fingers. Running along their length, he absentmindedly bent and straightened them as he carefully thought about the next words to leave his lips. "But it seems, I prefer you." His fingers slid between her own, lacing them together.

Stepping closer to him, she cupped the sharp angles of his cheek. Giving him no other choice then to look up at her with those big, rounded eyes. "Are you telling me I'm loud?" She teased.

"No," Viktor smirked and let his cane slip to the floor, prioritising holding her hips. "But I would like to find out." He put pressure behind his hands, pushing her back onto the tabletop behind her. "Take those off, please." He nodded his chin at her suitpants, then leaned back in his chair.

Smiling, she did as asked and a little bit more, leaving her in nothing but her undergarments.

His eyes trailed over her body, along the curves of her breasts and lace covered mound. Without a word, he moved the chair to face her, hands sliding up her calfs until they hooked beneath her knees and pulled her to the edge of the table.

"Viktor, you don't have to-" she began, rather putting in work for both of them so he could avoid further strain on his body.

But desperate to be of use, to do it himself, he insisted. "I want to," he assured, wrapping a hand around the back of her thigh and squeezed. "Please . . . Let me."

Hesitantly, she nodded her head in compact motions. Willing to please him, but needing him to please her more.

Placing one hand behind her, she braced her weight against the table while her other hand brushed stray strands from his eyes. Combing it back, she burried her fingers in his thick waves. "Okay," she whispered.

What followed was a satisfied smirk and an eager lips trailing kisses along her inner thigh. He made quick work of her panties, then paused. Looking up, brown irises locked with her own as he hovered an inch from her heat. Then suddenly burried his face between her thighs before she'd gotten a second to breathe.

"Fuck-" she moaned, head falling back in bliss as Viktor worked his glorious wonders. An experienced tongue thrust into her core and lapped at her wetness, closing his eyes and humming throughout as if tasting heaven itself. "You taste very sweet, darling," he murmured against her, damp breath fanning against her core and sending shivers up her spine, doing nothing but further spurr her arousal on.

Sinking his teeth into the flesh of her inner thigh, he looked up at her, finding the entire city at her back, framing her exalted form. Behind her quivering shoulders ran the horizon, the night sky painting her into a saint as it formed like a halo around her head. Watching her heaving chest and panthing mouth was enough to make a man believe in powers greater than science.

And he wouldnt relent, when seeing the reaction his mere tongue could cause. He couldn't give her mercy, and he could not give her another second to collect herself lest her climax strayed too far away.

Without warning, he slid his tongue up her folds, collecting her arousal only to swallow with groan. Before she could gasp, he'd already slipped back between her thighs. Aternating between soft kisses and gentle nipping, he turned her into a whimpering mess. In a final act, he latched onto her clit, sucking and circling with fervour. Tears of pleasure rolled down her cheeks as her fingers curled into a fist, pulling on his hair as she held on for dear life.

But all he did was whine from her taste and the pressure on his scalp, whine from the growing unpleasantry in his pants as he devoured his dinner and licked his plate clean. "Pretty," he murmued, and she opened her eyes to look at him.

One quivering body- and an arched back later, she laid back against the tabletop, fighting hard to catch her breath.

Looking back, she glimpsed Piltover. She saw thousands of lights illuminating homes, she saw the sky and the glimmering stars. But she couldn't be sure if it was reality or hallucinations of eyes recovering from a tumultuous orgasm.

Moving up, she braced on her forearms, surveying Viktor's own state. He'd circled his arms around her calves and laid his head in the valley between her thighs, kissing and whispering sweet nothings against her skin. Thumbs stroked soothing circles into her plush flesh whenever his mind reminded him. "Thank you," he whispered and kissed her. "Thank you," he repeated over and over again.

"Thank me when we're done," she exhaled, adoring the way his reaction to making her come was gratitude, for letting him bring her to completion. "Chair or bed?" She asked, already planning their next endeavour. "I want to please you too."

Blinking, he considered. An uncertain smile twitching in the corner of his lips. "Our rooms are far," he murmured, glancing down at his leg. Self-consciousness was never something he displayed, never did he complain or bring it up. In his mind, he wanted to prove that there was nothing wrong with him, that he could withstand and surpass.

Although she understood, although she empathized with him, she did not see the need. A dent in a machine did not change its capability, but it could bump the risk of deterioration. "We all need help sometimes, Viktor," she combed through his hair, scratching and brushing his scalp in turns. Sliding a finger down his face, she placed it beneath his chin, tilting his face to meet hers. "Some hardships are more visible than others, but that should not affect the view people have of you. It certainly won't affect mine," she whispered and brushed her thumb along his upper lip, fingertip gently dotting the mole above, and then followed his cheekbone up to his temble. "But, it's your decision, whatever you're comfortable with," she assured, rubbing circles into his temple.

Burrying his face in her thigh, he sighed and nodded, untamed hair scratching her skin pleasantly. "Yes." Viktor sat back and reached for her hands, clasping them in his own. "My room it is," he smiled and kissed up her knuckles, palm and wrist.

-

She'd never been sure if the professor's assistant got a fancier room then the other students. But standing inside it, she could confirm it was bigger at the very least.

"We were outside of the workshop when miss Medarda found us," Viktor explained as he closed the door behind them.

"No! What did she say?" She snickered, eager to hear the following as shd vetured into his room, examining some of the knicks and knacks he had laying around.

Leaning on his cane, he scrathed his chin. "I do not remember," he said, and then a blush rose to his cheeks, staining them a pretty, pale red. "I believe I paniced and told the councillor that I had gotten the rooms wrong."

Raising an eyebrow, she sauntered back to him, already questioning how the story would end. "And which room was that?" She asked, toying with his collar.

Viktor cleared his throat. "Jayce's," he chuckled, thumb rubbing the handle of his cane. "Miss Medarda had little trust in my excuse."

Her lips pulled into a thin line as she met his eyes, making a worthy attempt at with-holding her laughter. "At least it turned out well in the end," she managed, fingers working to unlace his west as she backed toward the bed, pulling him with her.

"Yes," he said and re-removed her shirt, getting the satisfaction of pulling it over her head this time. "I would like to think so."

Sliding his west down his shoulders, she began unbuttoning the red fabric beneath, where she found another piece of his engineering. She traced the clever contraption with wonder. Softly admiring the skill and ingenuity he'd put into it.

Looking up to ask him about it, she found his expression close to discomfort. He looked vulnerable, like it was a piece of himself he rarely showed anyone else unless he had to.

Smiling softly, she met his gaze with a slanted head. "It's crafted brilliantly," she recognized his hard work while studying the detailing. "It's a-"

"Brace." There was note of resignation in his tone. "My back, it is . . ." He trailed off, looking away.

She sighed silently, hating that he couldn't see his own beauty the way she did. "It's beautiful, Viktor. Truly. It suits you." She ran a finger along the strap over his shoulder. "We can keep the shirt if you'd prefer it."

"No," he said and began taking the shirt off, struggling as he only had one available hand. Sensing irritation, she cupped his jaw, gathering his attention. She watched his face soften, honoured by his trust in her. Then brushed her hands down his throat and shoulders, tracing his collarbone before sliding over his shoulders and beanth the fabric, helping it fall to the floor. Viktor turned them around and moved onto to bed without another word.

She smiled to herself, instantly shy by his sudden confidence. Crawling after him, she straddled his lap, careful not to put too much weight on his leg.

"I am not ready, to . . . Remove the other, yet," he murmured, no longer as resigned when talking about his condition. "I am afraid the pants must stay on, for the moment."

"Thats okay," she nodded softly, connecting their foreheads. "I don't mind." She placed her hands on his chest, feeling his skin beneath her palms. She brushed them down his arms until she found his hands and laced them together with her own, and her lips inched closer to his.

For a while, they settled in this new position. Simply enjoying the moment of newfound feelings and fragility, inhaling one another's scent and sharing the air between them.

Viktor tilted his head to the side, moving closer until their mouths were ghosts upon the other. With parted lips, he crept ever closer, patiently testing the waters. Then, softly, they closed around her bottom lip. With a unified exhale, she kissed him back. She could very faintly taste herself on him.

Together, they could focus on nothing but the softness of the other and the frequency of their breaths. When their lust filled lungs could no longer expell air through their mouths, their noses had to take up the slack. Somehow, adding on to the intimacy between them. In this second in time, they were two souls with lungs filling of emotion, ramping up the speed in which they needed to act.

With no other way for the feelings to go, the eagerness in their lips had to carry them out.

Laced together, she moved his hands to her body, giving him free range to wander while her own traveled downward and found the buttons of his pants. "Is this still alright?" She murmured in-between kisses.

"Yes, please," he answered, his own hands undoing her bra. Then there suddenly was the sound of skin on skin as he slid his hands back around her ribs and cupped her breasts.

With a gasp from his touch, she got the buttons open. Reaching down, she pulled his member out.

He'd been fully hard since they'd left the workshop, and intending to finally put him out of his misery, she spread the pre-cum leaking from his tip and circled it gently. Earning her a soft whimper.

Placing one hand on his chest, she lined him up with the other. Pushing him back against the bed and quickly followed suit herself, wetting the tip in her core.

"Please," he begged, hands moving to cup her face, pulling her back for another kiss. "Please." He introduced their tongues and let them explore each other's mouths. Finally, she carefully slid down his length. Resulting in a shprt break from their kiss through the unisome gasp.

As she began to move, to rut her her hips into his. The kiss became needier and needier until their teeth were clashing and breathing rapid.

She angled her hips so her clit could be stimulated against his mound. She released a breathless whimper at the sensation, but earned a twitch from the member inside her and a grin from the man beneath her. "Glorious woman," he moaned, moving to kiss her jaw and neck. His hands slipping from her face to her hips and ass, squeezing and encouraging her ruts with help from his wrists.

From the several points of pleasure he made for her, she was already closing in on her second orgasm. Straightening up, she put both hands on his chest and used him as support to move in longer bounds around his inches. "That alright?" She asked, imagining nothing worse than to cause him

"Yes, y-yes. Mmh . . . M' close," he managed. Observing her on top of him did nothing to ease the matter, and he hissed from what his thoughts of her alone could muster.

Grinding down harder, jolts of electricity shot through her body. Their combined sounds of pleasure along with the sensations they caused had them both close to their limit.

Closing her eyes, the night sky began forming beneath her eyeslids. Her entire body felt much the same, static sizzled in every nerve as the pressure came close to releasing.

"Look at me," Viktor said with a breathless voice. Fingers clawing at her back and waist with a non existent sharpness.

Taking a deep breath she closed the distance between them once again, and opened her eyes.

This time, she could see the stars reflected in his eyes. His hand wrapped around the back of her neck, bringing her head against his, and allowed their lips to meet one last time before they spilled over the edge. Viktor quite literally, as he filled her up with his seed.

With no strength left in her body, she collapsed. Yet, still taking care to place her weight on her side rather than his torso, along with her legs settling between his rather than on top.

"Thank you," he whispered, lips finding her temple as she rested next to him. "For keeping me company."

"It was my pleasure, Viktor," she chuckled. "I hope we can do it again."

"Yes, I would like that," he nodded. "I really care for you, . . ." He whispered her name. "I think, perhaps-"

"I care for you too," she stopped him. "Let's let things happen in their own time, okay?"

"Okey," he smiled, scratching her nape.

As their euphoria began wearing of and sleep caught up, her mind could not settle. "Viktor," she murmured.

"Mmh?" He answered, already drowsing of.

"I maybe think so, too."

[azullumi]

Hello hello hello, I'm here to ask for like headcanons or an imagine (or whatever, idk, can you tell I've never requested a fic in my entire life) about Luka slowly realizing he actually has feelings for someone? Like genuine ones? I'm not super duper into Alien Stage but I imagine him being super fake (and manipulative lol) especially when it comes to dating. Like, I don't even think he would get into a relationship if he doesn't get something out of it, but what if he, y'know, slowly starts to realize he actually likes the person he's with? Like how would he deal with that and stuff 🫣

GOLDEN BOY, BROKEN GLASS, MAY THE SUN SHINE ON YOU !!

premise— it’s hard to know, to realize, that he has fallen in love, not when the genuine concept of it has been slowly eradicated and painted into something twisted and cruel by the hands of these aliens; alternatively, what he’s like slowly falling in love and coming to terms with it. content tags and warnings — pairing: luka (w/ gender-neutral reader) | kind of established relationship, not an alternative universe, slight angst with fluff, i fucking hate you heperu (heperu is luka’s guardian alien) | wc: 0.7k ; headcanons

"jellyfish"— i was listening to sad music so now this came out as sad

The ‘love’ LUKA had received from Heperu was the only love he had known and so, he views the world around him in the same lens, carving his heart out of the same rotten wood that was used to create his being. What can he do in the face of something so tender, so sharp, so gentle, like needles stabbing into his hands but caressing him sweetly all the same?

Was love meant to be as draining as this? Was it meant to tire and wear out his bones? Was it meant to make his heart clench, thorns ripping at his throat? Was it meant to make him reach his hand out for you, to let his touch linger across your skin, to always seek the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his? It’s a little strange, the odd ‘pain’ in his chest blurring into an unfamiliar feeling of comfort and warmth. He’s not one to run away at the face of such unusual feelings, but maybe he’ll turn away from it, to dismiss it as nothing (it’s not what Heperu taught him).

When did his eyes start to follow you everywhere you go? When did he begin to wish to chase the shooting stars, despite the constricting feeling on his throat, just so he could have the chance to see you, bare and flawed underneath the same skies that had forsaken him, that had abandoned you? He never had seen the problem of hurting others or being hurt as long as it is meant for him, for his own good, but when he sees twist in your expression, the hollow in your eyes, the tremble of your lips, he’s suddenly bitter and thorned. He tries to be kind, in ways that he knows of, in ways that he has seen, experienced, and learned.

To be seen as nothing but manipulative and cunning with his princely and charming demeanor, to be seen as a blank slate, to be seen only on the surface of his sweet smiles that never seem to reach his eyes. But it’s better to be misunderstood than to have you see the wretched and tangled strands that is sewn to create the fabric of his existence, to be viewed under the same limelight he is being put beneath than to have you notice the bleakness of color in his golden eyes that rivals the sun—except his light never exists, only when he gazes at you does it ever shine.

It’s hard to understand him either—not when he cannot understand himself also. He wishes to take away all of your pain, all of your problems and worries, to have you rely on him and only on him, to view the world in your eyes, to cup your cheeks in his hands and press his lips against yours (he has heard of the act of kissing, a strange way to convey and pour one’s desire, adoration, and love to another). He’ll lie down on the grass with you and watch the stars, he’ll listen to your songs and music, he’ll let you put those red flowers found in the Anakt Garden on his hair.

Maybe he does and say such things in the name of ‘control’, ‘possession’, ‘obsession’, or anything that can be used to label whatever reason he has just so he could see that pretty shade that adorns your cheeks, the smile that etches across your lips, the sound that bubbles out of your throat, the eyes that glimmer when you look at him. Maybe it’s just those feeble things that make him feel humane, that makes him break away from the shackles that binds him to the image of ‘Luka, the star’, that makes him realize that he does adore you.

(Whatever this fragile bond you share with him, built on weak foundations of the love he has known and the love you have shared, fragile and fleeting like glass teetering on the edge, he’ll seize it, he’ll shape it, and he’ll make it unbreakable—he’ll make it real, he’ll make it his.)

He likes to believe that he deserves the kind of love he has yet to know of, out of the clutches of Heperu and into the warmth of your own. To hold it into his hands, tightly, unrelenting, never letting go—contorting into control as long as it is his.

© AZULLUMI. plagiarism of any form and type, stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms is NOT permitted.