#you know how I love london bridges

[faaun]

procrastination is starting to have its consequences finally

[neo-nomatrix]

Drunk words are sober thoughts

Hobie Brown x reader

Part three of the My Nuisance mini series. Find the other parts here

word count: 959

Synopsis: Hobie forgets everything he told you last night. Thank you @good-so for the inspo!!

When you woke up Hobie was gone. You were surprised you didn’t hear his obnoxious boot buckles clicking when he left. In fact you were surprised he left at all. He basically confessed his love and the fact he was Spiderman to you last night.

You needed time to process everything, make sure none of it was a fever dream. As soon as you woke up (and gathered your thoughts) you trudged over to Hobies flat. You knocked on the door similar to how Hobie always did, part of you was angry that he had left you but you would rather die than let him know he got to you.

“Hobie? You in there?!” You yell pressing your ear against the door.

As you lean into the door it opens up, he had left the door unlocked and didn’t even fully close it. You stepped into the rather dark flat and admired the decorations. He had a way of making everything look like a punk rock magazine, despite the chaos it was cleaner than you had anticipated. You searched throughout the flat trying to find him but it was clear he wasn’t there.

Eventually you came across a small box decorated with photos of the London bridge and bright colors. You didn’t mean to snoop around, really, but you just couldn’t help yourself. Inside were five things: three letters, a ring, and a necklace. You had recognized the ring and necklace, they were yours. You had lost both of them by mistake about a week ago but assumed they were long gone. As you thought about it more you realized something like that happened often, you would lose something of yours and a week later they would up outside of your door with a note attached to it.

Usually saying “You’re quite clumsy, love - Hobie”

It hadn’t occurred to you why he had found so many of your things until now.

You looked at one of the letters, and sure enough it said “You just keep losing stuff don’t you? Good thing i’m here to save the day -Hobie” You smile to yourself thinking about the fact that he would probably give you this tomorrow.

The second letter was from you. The first time you had ever told him to turn down his music. As you read it you realized how much you had changed from the first time you met him. You were so polite in the letter, the fact you had taped a letter to his door instead of screaming at him was polite in itself. After that first letter you don’t think you have ever said “please” and “thank you.” From then on it was mostly you stomping over to his flat and yelling while he stood there amused.

The last letter was addressed to you. And it was double sided, either this boy has a lot of baggage or he was really in love with you. You felt awful reading it though. You started at the first words for a while ���For my Love,” until the lights switched on.

“You’re breaking into my house now? That’s cheeky init?” He smirked. God he is so stupid, and what British person actually says init?

“The door was open. I was… just checking to see no one like a robber had broken in,” you replied.

“Right, and you also wanted to make sure that box wasn’t broken into?” he replied.

You immediately set it down.

“I haven’t read any of it, promise,” you smiled

“Yet, you haven't read any of it yet,” he finished for you.

“So, about last night?” you bring up. Hoping he’ll want to talk about it.

“Right… uhm, i don’t really remember any of it? So whatever i said don’t pay any attention. I’m a compulsive liar when I get wasted,” he shrugs.

Oh. He didn’t remember anything he said. And he’s also a dunk liar. Cute. You were still slightly convinced he’s spiderman, though. He showed you the suit and the mask, which weren’t exactly replicas to your knowledge. And trust, you knew your spiderman suit replicas. But the other stuff?

The stuff about you hurting his feelings and him being in love with you? Yeah, you were almost one hundred percent sure those were lies. You don’t know why you were convinced with one but not the other. You just did.

“Yeah, of course,” you looked sad.

“But I should get going,” you said after a moment of silence.

“Right, we’ll uhm, see you,” he said.

You nodded before looking down at the ground, walking off without being able to look into his eyes.

You shut the door to your flat faster than you ever have before.

“Oh my lord,” you whispered to yourself.

Gods, if that wasn’t the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you. You didn’t even know what you were thinking, you had to be mental, right? Going into Hobies flat while he wasn’t around? And he caught you? You could never show your face again.

While you’re in your flat panicking your mind out, Hobie is filled with anxiety. He’s racking his brain trying to remember what happened last night and why he woke up in your bed. Did he say something horrible? Did he confess his deepest secrets to you? The answer was yes, but he didn’t know that yet. He only left early because Miguel had pinged his watch with some stupid mission.

“The fate of the multiverse is at stake,” or something like that.

He knew he had to talk to you again. Picking up the box he pulled out the ring. Admiring the way it glimmered in the fluorescent lights.

Throwing away the note that came with it, he knew exactly how to start a conversation.

Taglist!! @clown420cunt @good-so @anonima-2 @gh0stsp1d3r @miracleboylene @natthernandez @frenchbaddie @loislucky @juo6uvr @gaychaosgremlin @skiedrr @the-golden-goldie @hellok1ttycake @theleftkittycollection @xbl00dy-r0s3x @diamondroxypie

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Change

Summary: When a strange illness spreads across the world, the reader's father takes her away from society in an attempt to keep her safe. Ten years later the reader runs into some trouble when forced to be on her own one night but it's nothing an overly friendly sheriff can't help with...

Pairing: Alpha!Beau Arlen x Omega!reader

Word Count: 6,000ish

Warnings: language, attempted assault, minor violence, medical emergency

A/N: This is my first time doing Alpha!Beau and did a little twist on ABO for it. Please enjoy!

__________

Ten Years Ago

“Y/N!” You poked your head into the living room, giving your dad a smile when he stood there, back to you.

“Dad, I already got enough graduation presents. I mean it was just college, I didn’t need-“

He stepped aside, revealing the breaking news story on the tv.

Mystery Illness Affecting New York City Residents

He looked over his shoulder, frowning at you. “You’re not moving to the city next weekend.”

You scoffed. “Dad. I start my first adult job ever in two weeks. In New York City. I have to go.”

“No. Whatever the hell this is, it's happening there and putting people in the hospital. If your new job has a problem with that then tell them to kiss my ass.”

“What is wrong with you?” You stormed closer, furrowing your brow. Something was off. He was swiping a hand over his mouth, his eyes filled with dread. You glanced back at the screen with a swallow. “Daddy, do you know what this illness is?”

“No,” he said quietly, glancing down at you with a longing glance. “Tonight we need to leave town and go to camp.”

“Hunting camp?” He nodded. “But that’s in the middle of no…”

His face looked so much older all of a sudden, years and years of worry etched into the deep laugh lines around his eyes. “Why do you want us away from everyone?”

“Because isolation is the only way to guarantee you don’t get sick.” Paranoia. You should have called him paranoid. Said he was worrying over nothing. Said he was acting crazy.

But you simply nodded and excused yourself back to your graduation party with your friends, knowing it’d likely be the last time you saw them for a while. Or ever again.

“Dad,” you said that night as you packed up the cars, your father more frazzled than the time he lost you in the grocery store for all of eight seconds. “Should we call Em?”

“He’s the one that called me.” He shut the trunk, inhaling the night air deeply. “London. New York. Sydney. It’s global and it’s flooding hospitals. Em said small towns are next. I wanted you to have one last normal day, kiddo.”

“What exactly did Emmet say? Does he know more than what they’re saying?” you whispered, clutching your cardigan tight. “I thought he was in Africa doing that volunteer doctor program.”

“He is. But something…happened. People started getting ill and then acting crazy. Biting each other in the neck. Like animals.” Slowly you blinked, your dad pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know how it sounds, believe me. But I know my son and it’s the truth. He told me to get you safe.”

“Is he safe?” He closed his eyes. “Is he safe?”

“Emmet’s….” Your throat tightened, your dad wincing. “He called from his sick bed. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen. He said he loves us and we need to go before the whole world goes mad.”

Your bottom lip wobbled as he opened his eyes, gently shushing you. “Em isn’t dead, right?”

“I don’t know. His phone is dead,” he croaked out, wiping away your tears that threatened to fall. “But if what he said is true, the world will be incredibly dangerous in just a few days. We need to get you away from here before that happens.”

You wearily nodded, hugging him hard. “Dad.”

“Yeah, pumpkin?”

“We’ll be okay.”

“Yes we will. I promise.”

Present Day

“Fuuuuuck,” you groaned, the wind knocked out of you as one, no two, men pinned you down on the hard pavement of the pharmacy parking lot. The supplies you’d bought for your dad in the middle of the night were scattered on the ground. Half your mind grappled with how you needed to get those back to dad at the cabin while the other realized the men were trying to remove your pants and hoodie.

You snarled and kicked, hitting something hard, probably a shin bone. 

A gunshot went off nearby and all three of you froze.

“On your bellies. Hands on your head or the next one goes through your spine.” The two men were rigid before rolling off of you on either side. You risked sitting up, backing away a few feet and turning on your bottom. 

It was dark but even so you could make out the handsome brown haired man aiming a gun at the men. He had a presence about him, a calmness to the situation you weren’t expecting. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone, his jacket riding up so you could spot the shiny gold badge on his hip.

This guy was a cop.

Good news and bad news.

“Mam, are you alright?” You blinked, realizing he was talking to you between speaking into the phone. You nodded, the man humming, mentioning something about backup.

Shit. You had to leave before you got wrapped up in this. You started to gather up your dropped items as the officer handcuffed one of the men. “Mind if I borrow that?”

You froze, staring at him. He nodded toward your hand and the new package of zip ties. You handed it to him carefully, the officer quickly placing one on the other man.

“Thank you, mam,” he said, handing the package back. You nodded, shoving the package in your bag and crawling over between two cars, reaching for the bottle of pills that had rolled underneath. “Are you sure you’re alright, miss?”

“Never better!” you squeaked out, grabbing the pills and tying off the bag tight. You popped to your feet, the officer rising to his own. “Uh, thanks.”

You started to leave when he took two big steps over, catching your arm. “Whoa, whoa. These guys can’t do anything to you. Backup will be here in two minutes tops. I know you want to get home but we need a statement and you should get that scuff cleaned up by a paramedic. Hell, I can do it for you back at the station.”

You blinked slowly, the man’s friendly smile turning concerned as you weighed your options. “Alright. I think you hit your head a little harder than we both realized when they knocked you down. Why don’t you take a seat-”

You kneed him in the groin, the officer crumping into a heap and releasing you. 

“Sorry!” You took off running to your car and peeled out of the other end of the parking lot before he could even get on his feet.

“Dad?” It was only twenty minutes later when you were entering the dark cabin, frowning that he wasn’t on the couch where you’d left him. “Dad!”

“In here for crying out loud!” You rushed over to the bathroom door, carefully nudging it open. Your heart seized when you saw him lying on the ground, his previously red inflamed leg now looking dark and swollen. “Did you get the-”

“Daddy, it’s broken. Why didn’t you say something?” He scoffed, forcing himself to sit upright against the tub. “Dad-”

“I’m not going to a damn hospital and becoming one of those…things.” He spit out the last word, venom laced behind it. You’d kept to yourselves the past ten years, dad only going to town in the dead of night to get food or supplies. Suffice to say, despite your best efforts, years of isolation hadn’t been great for his paranoia. Or your own.

He could never know that you were almost attacked. It’d destroy him after all he sacrificed for you. His home. His career. His life. Making sure you never got sick like Emmet had was his sole purpose.

“What if I drop you off at the hospital and…” both your heads whipped around when bright headlights shone through the windows. 

“Someone followed you. Get the shotgun and-” You slammed the door shut on him, ignoring his angry shouts. 

“Miss? It’s Sheriff Beau Arlen. We met just a short time ago. I’m doing a wellness check. Please answer the door.” You swallowed thickly, staring at the heavy wooden object. Shit, he’d followed you home. He was going to make you give a statement which meant being around other people long enough to get sick.

You glanced over your shoulder and sighed. Dad was no spring chicken anymore. Living in the woods and keeping up the land had kept him in good shape but he was getting older and there was no way he could survive a broken leg without help.

“Fuck it.” You stepped over to the door, frowning when you opened it. The man from before was standing there, a cautious smile on his face. “Hi. My dad fell earlier today. I think he broke his leg. He’s in the bathroom.”

“Okay. We can call an ambulance and-”

“He’s terrified of public places. Of catching the…sickness.” He raised his eyebrows, biting the inside of his cheek. “I know he needs a hospital but is there any way we can limit the number of people he’s around? Like a doctors office or something?”

He only cocked his head, eyeing you up and down. His nose twitched, inhaling sharply. You glared and subtly did a pit check. Okay, maybe you were a little sweaty but you’d nearly been attacked-

“How the hell…” Sheriff Arlen shook his head. “Alright. I’ll see what I can do to accommodate his…needs.”

“Thank you,” you said, starting to shut the door when he put a hand on it. You stared at one another, the sheriff’s nose twitching once more. “Please leave.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” Visions of what the men from earlier had planned on doing flashed in your mind and you clenched your fists, ready to fight. “Oh, sweetheart I am so sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” You grit out, widening your stance. He frowned, shaking his head.

“Your father might be able to be treated at a doctors office but you need a hospital.” You narrowed your eyes, the sheriff holding up his hands. “You call it the sickness? The rest of us call it the change. Now it seems to me that you lack some education on the topic-”

“I know exactly what those men tonight were going to do. I know exactly what the sickness, change, whatever you want to call it does to people and I’ll tell you right now, I’m not getting sick and becoming someone’s fuck toy.” He closed his eyes, muttering under his breath. Slowly, they opened to reveal green orbs, softly watching you.

“Sweetheart, your body changed ten years ago whether you believe me or not. Judging by the fact your only interaction with other people has been your Beta father-”

“He’s not Beta,” you growled.

“-Or very few works at convenience stores at night, you have never been around an Alpha long enough to be triggered into your first heat-”

“I am not one of those-”

“Omega.” Your brain went fuzzy when the word left his lips, hand gripping the back of the couch hard. “We need to get you to a hospital. Your first heat is incredibly painful without medicine. I know, I have a teenage daughter-”

“Stop talking!” you shouted, suddenly feeling flush in the face. You wiped off your brow before grabbing the nearest object, a pillow, and chucking it straight at his handsome face. “You did this to me! You made me sick coming here!”

“You became Omega ten years ago, the same night I changed, the same we all did,” he said, looking down his nose at you. “Now let me help you and your father before I have two patients on my hands instead of one.”

“Get out!” The room spun, a strong pair of hands catching you the last thing you remembered.

Your body felt considerably cooler when you woke although the sterile scent filling your nostrils made you want to gag. Great, you were in the hospital. You turned your head to the side, your oh so favorite sheriff giving you a waggle of his fingers from the other side of room as he read his phone.

“What are you doing here?” you grumbled, sitting upright with a strain. 

“I figured you don’t have an emergency contact besides your father on account the whole survivalist in the woods energy I’m getting.” You glared at him, the man leaning back in his chair, relaxing further. “Your father is alright but he’s in the ICU. I’ve been told he’ll need to go to a in-patient rehab facility to learn to walk on it.”

“What?” You threw back the covers and got out of bed, freezing in place when you caught his cologne. Your eyes fluttered, jaw dropping slightly. “Jesus christ what is that smell? That’s…fuck is this what crack is like? What kind of drugs did they give me?”

He chuckled, glancing up with a smirk. “Let me guess. Vanilla with a hint of tobacco. Fresh cookies, a campfire, the cool mist of rain and something fluffy you can’t quite describe?”

“How did you…” You said, daring a step closer. You had a million questions in your mind about your dad but all your body seemed to want to do was get more of that smell.

“Because I know what my scent is.” You licked your lips involuntarily, breathing hard. “Down girl.”

You immediately backed up, shaking your head. “I-I’m sorry. That isn’t like me at all.”

“It’s your first heat and I’m the first Alpha you’ve properly scented on one. You have urges. Nothing to feel sorry for.” Your cheeks burned as you returned to bed, sitting on the edge with your legs hanging off. “In a few hours, your medicine will have fully kicked in and then you’ll be fine. I have a teenage daughter and so you’ll get monthly heats but as far as I understand, it’s extremely similar to your monthly visitor you were already used to.”

“I’ve been having periods for years and it doesn’t feel like this,” you said, his scent tickling under your nose, turning you on more and more by the second.

“The…randiness fades. You’ll be fine,” he said, glancing at you. “You really don’t know anything about the change or what it did to us, do you.”

“I know enough.” He frowned. “Why is my dad in the ICU?”

“His leg is shattered. The surgeon said he suspects he broke it a few days ago. He’s lucky to be alive and still have use of it.” You closed your eyes, gripping the mattress. “He didn’t tell you he was injured until recently, did he.”

“He said he fell today and it was sore. I was getting some bandages and a painkiller at the store tonight.” You groaned. “The fucker. He’s so scared…”

You opened your eyes when you heard footsteps, the sheriff kneeling down in front of you. Gently, he took both your hands, offering a kind smile. “Yes, the world was scary for a little while when we didn’t understand what happened but now we do. There is no reason you and your father have to hide away in the woods away from the rest of us.”

“You called yourself an Alpha.” He nodded. You noticed how small your hands were in his, could feel the surge of power he held within them. “Like how in animal packs, there’s an Alpha sometimes.”

“Let me explain this to you in the most basic of terms.” You swallowed, his fingers sliding up to wrap around your wrists loosely. “People that were bad before the change are bad now and people that were good before are good now. All that happened last night was you ran into a couple of bad guys. They were Alpha but so am I. We are not animals and neither are you.”

“But you could bite me and make me…” He smiled, a tiny eye roll in there. “Excuse me? What was that?”

“What you’re describing is a crime. Consent is still very much a thing, little lady. Believe me, I have no problem putting Alpha’s in their place if needed.”

You raised your head, the man tucking your hair behind your ear. “Are you sure you’re not just an anomaly?”

“Miss, I have a fifteen year old omega daughter. If I thought that world was truly that far gone, I wouldn’t let her out of my sight. Now, do you see her in this room?”

You rolled your eyes, the man standing with a chuckle. “You’re going to be just fine.”

“So you’re here out of the goodness of your heart?” you asked. He bit is bottom lip, looking shy all of a sudden.

“You’ve had a long night and I remember how frightening it felt the first night I changed. The world is no more dangerous than it was a decade ago. But it never hurts to have a friend when life gets hard.” 

“Thank you,” you said quietly, a painful cramp ripping across your abdomen. He caught your wince and helped you to lie back down.

“Get some sleep. I’ll check on your dad for you.”

“Thanks. Oh wait.” He pulled up your covers and hummed. “Why were you at the pharmacy in the middle of the night?”

He smirked, patting your thigh. “I’ll check in with you in the morning, darlin’.”

Later That Morning

“Get out!” You flinched and backed out of your dad’s hospital room, closing the door behind you. 

“He’s still angry, huh?” To your left appeared your sheriff, sporting a tan jacket and khakis, brown cowboy boots adorning his feet. You sniffled and nodded, the man giving you a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder. “Have you been discharged yet?”

“Yeah.” You sat down on a nearby bench, the sheriff joining you. You rubbed your palm with your thumb, skin peeling off eventually. He caught your wrist, gently moving it away. “He doesn’t want to go to a rehab center. He says he’s fine and I should take care of him until he’s on his feet. The part I hate is we both know it’s horseshit. He knows he needs help but won’t admit it.”

“Stay here a minute for me.” He entered your dad’s room, closing the door and remaining inside for a few minutes. The door opened with a creak, your sheriff waving you inside.

You frowned at your dad in bed, his arms crossed. 

“I’m sorry for acting like a child,” he grit out. Your eyebrows shot up, gaze shooting to the sheriff who was giving your dad a friendly smile. But there was an undercurrent of authority to it that made your heart skip.

“Thank you?” you said. He sighed, quiet for a moment.

“I will go to rehab. I’m not your responsibility.” He cleared his throat. “I heard you’ve…changed.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. Your gaze shot down, your dad tsking you.

“Sheriff Arlen….informed me of some things about the world. I think while I’m recovering maybe you…could get a job. Get back out in the world, not be stuck with me.”

You bit your tongue. What the hell was up with him? Did he not want you around anymore now that you were one of those…omegas?

“Mr. Y/L/N, we’ll let you rest. I’ll be sure to get Y/N home.” Your sheriff put a hand on the small of your back that sent a pleasant chill down your spine. God, he smelled even more alluring than last night. 

Why did you kind of like it? How large his hand was, how comforting it felt. Maybe you were just touch starved after a decade of being alone.

“What is going on?” you asked when you were in the hallway. “Is he okay whatever your name is again?”

“Sheriff Beau Arlen. Call me Beau. Your dad and I had a small conversation. I explained a few things about the change and dynamic to him, told him I’d keep an eye out for you since he’s a tad paranoid. S’all good.”

You stopped, Beau leaving his hand on your back. He paused by your side, turning his head down. “I may have…sternly explained that you are the exact same as you were and that he can’t keep you locked away from the world. You’re a grown woman, you deserve to live your life.”

“And by sternly explained you mean scared the shit out of him.” Beau said nothing, only walked down the hall, urging you along. “Where are we going?”

“Home. I know you were discharged but you should still relax. I have some things to do but I’ll be by later on today.” 

“You don’t have to come back. I’ll figure everything out on my own-“ Beau held up a hand before stopping in front of you, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans.

“Darlin’, I made your father a promise and I intend on keeping it.” He looked past you, licking his lips and making your nose twitch in response. “But first, we need to make a pit stop.”

You woke with a groan, jerking up in bed. A quick glance at the clock showed it was early afternoon. Ah, right. Beau dropped you off with some medicine and a book on the Change or so everybody referred to it. You’d taken a pill and fallen asleep a few hours ago, your body warm but otherwise feeling okay.

You clutched your blanket to your chest when something loud crashed beyond the bedroom door. 

“I can’t believe they let you carry a gun,” said a young voice. 

“Next time you get kidnapped, I’m letting them keep you,” he grumbled. 

“Funny, dad,” the voice deadpanned. “Wasn’t it Cassie who found me actually? Hm?”

“Eh, eh, eh. Stop with the sass, child and help me make this.”

“Why are you helping this random lady so much anyways?”

“Just…cause it’s nice.” Your stomach grumbled loudly and you decided to risk exiting to the main part of the cabin. The door squeaked like it always did, two pairs of eyes on you when you poked your head out. “Y/N. How are you doing, darlin’?”

“Fine. Why are you in my house?” you said, glancing at the teenage girl standing in the sad excuse for a kitchen off to the side.

“Did you break into her house?” she asked, Beau looking back at her with a glare. 

“Of course I didn’t.” He punched the bridge of his nose. “I told Y/N I would be back later.” 

The girl looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “I apologize for him. He gets a little too into helping people sometimes.”

“Why don’t you go on the porch and do your math homework?” She stared at him for a moment, shaking her head with a smirk. “Emily…”

“I said nothing. But your scent did,” she sang song before slipping outside. Beau rubbed the back of his neck, a strong whiff of a nice scent, his scent, hitting you. 

“Ignore her,” he said, still rubbing his neck nervously. You hummed, taking a seat at the two person table by the wall. “I hope you don’t mind we’re here. I figured you’d be hungry and Emily’s also an omega so she offered to talk to you if you’d like. She presented last year so she’s familiar with the growing pains.”

“You mean second puberty?” He chuckled, putting a casserole dish that didn’t belong to you in the tiny camping oven.

“It might not seem like it but we got off easy. You and I we just got a little something extra to figure out over a couple of months. She’s got to go through the whole deal.” You hummed, Beau wiping his hands off on a towel by the water pump and spinning around with a smile that made you relax. “So. How’s the pain?”

“Alright. Honestly it feels like a normal period, I’m just a bit warmer than usual.” You frowned, Beau’s face matching it. “You can skip the biology lesson since they gave me a run down at the hospital.”

“Will do. You get used to people’s scents pretty quick. It’s like personal deodorant and yes, you still need to use deodorant,” he teased, the air becoming thick. “Sorry. I’m intruding, aren’t I?”

“Well…if you were going to hurt me, you had your chance last night.” 

“Those men…” He glanced down, stepping forward to grab hold of the back of the opposite chair and lean over top. Green eyes met yours, worry etched in them. “Did they explain the change to you at all, like what happened ten years ago, or just the body stuff?”

“No. I only remember people were getting sick and then my dad got us out of the city after my brother called. I’d just graduated college. I was meant to start my first adult job in NYC. So I don’t know what happened, only that my dad said the world was too dangerous for me.”

Beau pulled the chair and sat, biting his bottom lip. “It’s believed a highly contagious virus spread rapidly across the globe. A pandemic. This wasn’t an ordinary virus though. It didn’t cause illness, only…activated something existing within human DNA. What you remember from TV is when people got infected with the virus. I was living in Texas at the time. Me, Em, her mom, we all were floored. My ex was very warm but her fever never spiked high. Myself, I was exhausted. I could barely move for three days. Emily thankfully slept through most of it. She was only a little girl so it didn’t hit her as badly. When I woke up the fourth day, my ex was doing better and I felt much stronger.”

“And you had that thing on your dick?” He chuckled. “How the hell does that even work without absolutely destroying the person on the receiving end.”

“Because you changed too. Yours are just not as easy to see. You know child birth complications has gone down significantly the past decade. Women report far less pain too. We just…evolved as a species a little fast if you want to think of it that way. Most of us. There are a few people that were lacking in the genome sequence to be affected but by and large, we all became Alpha, Beta or Omega.”

You crossed your arms, tilting your chin up. “My brother is a doctor in Africa, one of the first places that got sick. He told us people were like animals. Biting each other in the damn neck and then I never heard from him again. Anything to say about that?”

He looked up, scrunching up his face. “Well you don’t seem to have a phone around here but I will track down your brother for you. Um, we may have also…gotten physical proof that we have souls and biting an omega in their bonding gland connects them to the alpha that bit them on a metaphysical level but it only takes if it’s consensual on both sides and fun fact the bond will break if one person doesn’t love the other one anymore, like a divorce, not that I would…know what a broken bond feels like,” he rambled out, clearing his throat. You blinked slowly, Beau’s face stuck in that awkward position. “I overshared, didn’t I.”

“Just…a lot to take in,” you said, rubbing your own neck and feeling a tight, hard lump. “Is that my-”

“Yes. It’s where our scents come from and I uh, I got to head back to work,” he said, quickly standing. He adjusted his pants and you noticed the bulge, giving him a glare. “No! No, it’s not…Emily!”

“What?” she groaned, giving you friendly smile when she came inside.

“I need to check in at the station. Please explain…things to Y/N. Heats, scents, true mates, that sort of thing. I’ll be back soon.” He left quickly, Emily raising her eyebrows.

“He’s kind of weird,” you said, Emily laughing before giving you a smirk. “What?”

“Now I get why he’s being so extra. You’re his true mate.” You put a hand on your head, holding up a finger. “Don’t worry. I’ll explain everything.”

Three hours later, you were more confused than ever. Emily was only a teenager but she was a smart girl and had explained the change, what being an omega meant and all of it. You were stuck on one little tidbit though. She could smell that her dad, your sheriff, was connected to you. Like soulmates connected.

What. The. Fuck.

You were still trying to process that information when his red truck pulled up, Beau waving awkwardly to where you and Emily sat on the front porch.

“Emily, pack up your stuff. We should let Y/N-”

“No, no, Alpha boy. This is how it works,” you said, freezing him in his place. His shift shifted wildly, strong and heated, musky with need. “I know why you smell so good. Were you planning on telling me you were not in fact just being nice last night but you were physically incapable of leaving my side at the hospital. On account of the whole fated mates thing.”

Beau’s gaze shot to Emily, his eyes turning stern. “Oh no big boy. You don’t get to be mad at her.”

He put his hands on his hips, sighing to himself. “Would you like to have dinner with us?”

You felt like you had whiplash. Wasn’t he just about to argue something like you were too new to this world? Or no, we’re not mates, I was only helping. Or that it was only affection? Or that he couldn’t know?

“Would you like to have dinner with us?” he repeated.

“Wow,” said Emily besides you. “Her face is literally the what the fuck emoji right now.”

“Emily,” gritted out Beau. You held up a hand, Emily taking it and walking you down the two front steps. 

“Have you ever been to Donno’s diner? Oh my god, they have the best food. Come on, let’s-”

“I’m sorry, I’m not…” you gestured to yourself. You were in sweatpants that were a decade old, a plain t-shirt and your hair was a frazzled sweaty mess. Beau gently took your hand from Emily, his touch telling your body to calm down, that everything was okay.

“If you’d like we can eat in private but you do not need to hide from the world anymore. You are gorgeous just as you are,” he said, voice soft. Emily tilted her head, looking him up and down.

“He totally means that too. I can smell it.” Beau growled, Emily returning a cheeky grin. “Do you want me to leave so you two can bone?”

“In the car ladies, in the car,” he said, grabbing your shoulders and walking you towards the driver side as Emily got inside. “I apologize for the sassy child.”

“Don’t. I like the sassy child,” you grinned, Beau’s face lighting up.

“Really?” You hummed, Beau turning bashful. “She’s a good kid.”

“Seems that way.” You put your hands in your pockets, inhaling deeply. “Today’s been…”

“I understand.” You glanced back at the cabin, frowning. “You don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want to.”

“I’ve always hated this place.” His large hand interlaced with yours, squeezing the digits. “I don’t want to be alone tonight but I’m not ready for…this yet. I will be but I need to…live a little first. If that makes sense.”

Beau only smirked, a glint in his eyes. “I have an idea.”

Three Weeks Later

“Morning,” said Beau, knocking on the door to the air streamer, aka your new living arrangements for the time being. Beau and Emily had a home built last year after her abduction, something to give her some more stability. With that meant moving his air streamer onto part of the property and having it sit empty for the past six months.

Which meant it was perfect for you to be close to them, you were in town for your new job and you could easily drive to visit your dad at his rehab center. Beau had even offered to let him stay in the house when he got released but thankfully your brother was in contact again and he was going to take dad with him to Seattle where he’d been the past few years.

“Howdy sheriff,” you said as you opened the door, leaning against the door jam. He offered a cup of coffee and your heart fluttered. God, he was so cute how he did that every morning.

“Emily insists on you joining us for breakfast at Donno’s and I couldn’t tell the poor girl no so we’ll be ready to go in fifteen.” He looked up through his lashes, a smidge of cockiness in it. 

“Oh, we’re just going in fifteen, huh?” He shrugged, a strong whiff of his scent curling under your nose. Beau licked his lips as you absently scratched your neck. “I’m still in my pajamas.”

“You mean my pajamas,” he said, reaching out, tugging on the end of the oversized shirt that you’d taken from his room last night. Your stomach jumped as his knuckles grazed your bare skin, Beau stepping up into the airstream, making you walk back. A large hand rested gently on your hip, thumb stroking the skin lightly under the fabric of his shirt. “I had fun last night.”

“Me too.” You placed your hands on his chest, grinning up at him. “From what I’ve gathered, true mates bond immediately most of the time so I really appreciate you being patient-”

“Whoa,” he said, taking your arms in his hands, running them up to your shoulders. “Let’s get something clear, darlin’. You will never thank me for respecting your wishes and doing the right thing. You’re owed those things and sweetheart, I will wait as long as you need me to.” 

“I never met anyone like you before.” 

“Good,” he chuckled, leaning down and letting you press your lips to his. “Take as much time as you need to get ready.”

“I just need a few,” you said, reluctantly letting him pull away. “Hey Beau?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think I lost ten years of my life? Because I let my dad convince me the world wasn’t safe?” He pursed his lips, leaning back against the small counter.

“There certainly was a spike in violent crimes those first six months. There was a lot of fear. We went into a lockdown, loosened restrictions as the science caught up. Emily was homeschooled that first year and I barely let my ex leave the house. But we figured out that the evil bastards that’d do those sorts of things were always the type of people to do those things. It’s like how-”

“You’d love to bite my bond gland and so would I deep down but you’re not jumping my bones to do it because that’s not the kind of guy you are,” you interjected. He smiled softly. “It’s hard to feel like I didn’t lose time, you know?”

“I understand that perspective. But…I didn’t move here until just last year and there was a lot going on with that camping disaster and Emily and my ex and I wasn’t ready for you either until recently. This is how and when we were meant to find each other. We’re soulmates, we didn’t lose any time at all.” He reached out a hand and cupped your cheek. You nuzzled it, placing your hand over top. “I thought you had to get ready.”

“I do,” you said, closing your eyes. “My heat’s coming up soon. I like you being here.”

“Stay in the house with me when it starts. It’ll help.” He kissed your forehead, a strong sense of calm washing over you. “Don’t take too long, omega.”

“I’ll be right there, Alpha. Promise.”

________________

A/N: Read The Change from Beau's perspective here!

[bruhnze]

Personal records - Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

This is for the pookie that asked. Thank you @okaybronze i had fun writing this, this one is dedicated to you!

Thank you to this, this, this, this and thisssss anon. (you guys sure know how to inspire me)

Summary: This is in an alternative universe where Ona and Lucy are not footballers. Lucy is a personal trainer, Ona is a buisnesswoman.

Wordcount: a bigggggg one 12k+, so i advise to get comfy

Warnings: Minors DNI, smut. It has a lottt of plot bcs i got carried away, but what's new :)

I hope you like it, and i hope i didn't make any mistakes while copy-pasting this thing to here, as this was quite the big one and i proofread in Word so.. if something doesn't make sense, you can ask me, i think i did it right tho :)

Personal Records.

The Batlle family was one of the richest families on the whole planet of earth. In the last years of his working life, Ona's grandfather had completely invested in the internet and technology. His eldest son, Ona's father, had taken over the business and helped it to even greater success. They dominated the tech industry, from hospital equipment to mobile phones and coffee machines.

With so much money and only two children, Ona and her brother Joan were doing anything but bad.

Yet, especially since she had that head start, Ona wanted to create a legacy of her own. Unlike Joan, who filled his time with vacations and his DJ career.

But Ona’s passion wasn’t tech, she liked using her iPhone, yes, but she had no special talent or interest in the subject.

No. Her passion was architecture. She had studied it in college and with her dad paying her tuition,  it gave her all the time in the world to go networking at business events. One thing led to another, and by the age of 20 she already owned 15 buildings.

Now, just after her 25th birthday, she had a portfolio of hundreds of buildings and apartments, and was a very well-known high-class real estate agent all over Europe.

She didn’t like the way her life was filled to the brim with meeting after meeting and the fact that she sometimes felt like she was living in airplanes more than in buildings, the thing she loved most in the world, but it was worth it if she could once again sell a characteristic old building to the right owner.

That was the most perfect thing about her profession in Ona’s opinion, sometimes a house was perfect for a certain type of person, she couldn't explain it, it was just a feeling, but when she closed such a deal, it was one of the few moments that Ona could feel a little bit of satisfaction and happiness flowing through her body.

This had been a problem for a long time, she had been through some difficult years, feeling lonely at times and working far too hard without having an outlet.

After talking to some professionals and trying a few things, Ona discovered what worked perfectly for her: so she hired a personal assistant and got on weekly exercise sessions.

Sophia was a perfect PA, she was a 33 year old woman who was dedicated to work just as much as Ona was and most of all she could speak English perfectly, as she was from the United Kingdom. That was exactly what Ona needed as she got most tired from answering all the endless calls that she received.

The exercising also worked out perfectly. Her PA always found a personal trainer for her, no matter what city they were staying in. The first few months Ona really had to get in shape, but now she always came back with a wonderfully empty head after sweating for those two hours and of course, the six-pack she ended up with was also a great bonus.

This summer she had to spend in London, it was not really her preferred place to be for the next month or two, as English summers were not really something to write home about, but with the deals she had waiting for her, she happily went.

What also helped was the beautiful apartment she had in the center of London, overlooking the bridge, it was one of her favorite houses.

But besides the deals she had to close, she also wanted to relax and exercise a bit. Maybe she would even have time to go shopping.

Wednesday – Ona’s penthouse, London

A week before the big deal, Sophia and Ona arrived in London.

"Miss Batlle," the doorman said, as they walked into the building where Ona ‘lived’, or at least she did for 1 or 2 months a year. She was surprised they guy remembered and greeted him happily.

‘’You sure you don’t want an hotel room?’’ Ona asked as they were standing in the elevator.

Sophia shook her head, ‘’for me it’s easier to be close to you, safes me travel time’’ she sincerely confirmed, ‘’oh gosh, do you want some privacy, I’m sorry I didn’t-

‘’No, no, está bien’’ Ona smiled, ‘’I admire your work ethic, I was just wondering if you didn’t miss privacy’’.

‘’Well your penthouse is very big’’ Sophia smiled, ‘’and it’s not like I have a husband to call or something’’.

‘’Yeah’’ Ona grinned, ‘’our love lives are doomed’’.

A careful smile tugged on Sophia’s mouth, ‘’well, it has been a while since I had to leave space for a date in your schedule’’.

Ona smiled internally at the way Sophia got more and more comfortable with her, she was usually very professional, something Ona admired, but sometimes she felt Sophia and her could be friends a bit more, as she suspected her PA was actually a pretty funny person.

‘’It has’’ Ona confirmed, ‘’i'm basically celibate at this point’’, she added chuckling.

‘’Ona!’’.

At the same time the elevator stopped at the top floor with a ding.

‘’It is true though’’, Ona said as she stepped out the elevator to open the door ‘’maybe I should add searching dating sites to your to do’s’’.

Sophia groaned as she followed her, ‘’I’ll do it if you would really want that, but I do want to show you my current to do list before’’.

‘’I’m joking Soph’’ Ona said as she took of her heels and dropped her handbag, ‘’I trust you a lot, but, I do think love is something that just needs to happen, I don’t believe in dating apps’’.

‘’Well I do think you need to go out to make that happen’’ Sophia chuckled, ‘’or are you hoping to have a really hot woman buying a house off of you?’’.

‘’Hmm’’, Ona said as she walked into the big living area and stared outside of the windows, ‘’that would be the best thing ever, and I’d know she got taste’’.

Laughing Sophia walked in behind her, pulling her suitcase along ‘’do I got the same room as last time?’’.

‘’Mhm’’.

Sophia laughed to herself as she walked to the familiar room she had slept in before, recognizing that Ona had entered her thoughtful mode, something that often happened in places with a good view, and when Ona was thinking it was best not to disturb her.

..

They had ordered dinner, a bit tired from the travel they had decided to eat in and discussing the details of their work trip and calling it an early night.

Sophia had already set up meetings with various clients in a rented meeting room, made a list with properties they needed to visit and when the viewings would be and had booked a personal trainer.

‘’Sadly she is only available once a week’’ Sophia had said, knowing Ona liked to exercise two times a week for two hours, ‘’but she was the only one available in this period, apparently most trainers have this thing called -summer break-‘’ she joked, ‘’but she is really good, I read a dozen of reviews and she also trains athletes when they’re in between seasons’’.

‘’She?’’ Ona asked after the PA was done talking.

Sophia stilled, ‘’oh is that not-

‘’It’s okay, just surprised’’.

‘’I read she can be quite the pusher, helping people break their personal records’’.

Ona laughed, ‘’well I hope she doesn’t expect such a level of me’’.

Sophia frowned, ‘’you’re well fit, I’ve seen you in the pool, you have a killer body’’.

‘’Aesthetics is different to performance’’ Ona decided, ‘’anyways, thanks for arranging that, you’re the best’’.

..

Friday morning – Ona’s penthouse

‘’Okay I’m heading out to the gym then’’ Ona called through the living space.

‘’Have fun’’ Sophia called back, ‘’don’t break too many personal records!’’.

..

Friday morning - Bronze Fitness Forge

It was a nice building, Ona was pleased as she walked inside to search for the gym owned by one ‘Lucy Bronze’.

Ona thought it was a perfect name for a business owner and she liked the way the nameplates that showed the way were also done in Bronze, it was chic.

The Catalan businesswoman got to the front desk and told the lady behind it her name.

"Ah for Bronze herself" the lady smiled, "you may use dressing room 2, you will recognize it by the number on the door, when you've changed you just go through the other door in the changing room and then you're in the gym".

"Great. Thank you." Ona said in her business voice. It just happened whenever she spoke to people that were working.

"You can leave your bag inside the changing room but we've also got lockers".

"It's okay" Ona said, "only have some clothes with me".

The changing room looked very nice, Ona appreciated the way that this whole place was set up, it was not clinical or characterless, but it was very neat.

After changing, Ona went into the gym.

A dark-haired woman, just a little taller than her stood with her back to the door, the silhouette was muscular built, broad shoulders protruding from the tank top she wore.

Ona cleared her throat, ´´hello´´.

 The woman turned around from what she was doing and met her with a smile, ´´oh hey´´ she said, ´´uhm´´, she strutted over to Ona and offered her hand, ´´Lucy´´.

´´Ona´´, Ona replied as she mirrored the smile Lucy was wearing. Ona was delighted to notice the woman infront of was rather hot, but she didn´t want to be objectifying and most of all, she was here to clear her head, not to drool over a woman. So she shook the thought from her head and focused back on what she was here for.

´´So´´ Lucy said as she retracted her hand.

Only then Ona realized she was shaking it for a little too long.

´´Oh yes, I´m here for a two hour training session´´.

´´Yes´´ Lucy chuckled, Ona thought it made her look cute, ´´so what are we working with, you didn´t attach a schedule or any of your records or something, did you bring them?´´.

‘’What?’’ Ona said confused, ‘’records?’’.

‘’Yeah what field are you in?’’ Lucy tried, ‘’What do you need working on this summer?’’.

‘’Ohhh’’ Ona breathed out with a laugh, realizing what Lucy was thinking, ‘’I am not an athlete’’.

Lucy scrunched her nose and her head turned slightly in confusion, ‘’not?’’.

‘’No I’m town for business and I always train with a personal trainer, my PA booked you’’.

‘’Oh’’.

‘’Do you not train, uh, regular people?’’.

‘’Oh uh, yes’’, Lucy blushed.

‘’But?’’.

‘’Okay no offense’’ Lucy said carefully, ‘’but they’re usually.. a bit.. older’’.

Now it was Ona’s turn to be confused, ‘’why?’’.

‘’it’s expensive’’ Lucy said, hating herself for being so awkward.

‘’ohhh’’ Ona chuckled, ‘’well we better spend those expensive minutes good, shall we?’’.

‘’Yeah I’m sorry, I’m trying to work on that whole -not judging people by their cover- thing’’.

‘’It’s okay’’ Ona said cheerfully ‘’I come to clear my head before I have some important meetings next week’’.

‘’Great’’, Lucy said as she had called herself back to her senses ‘’and how can I help you with that’’.

‘’Well, I always go to a personal trainer because I don’t know anything about training, so I just - listen, do it and enjoy the muscle ache the day after’’.

‘’Hey’’ Lucy laughed, ‘’people always call me crazy when I say - I enjoy that’’.

Ona shrugged, ‘’one of the few things that make me feel alive’’.

“Okay, so you want to get completely worn out” Lucy chuckled, “we’ll make that happen”.

Ona gulped as Lucy took off, damn, this woman was cute.

They had been working out for almost 2 hours without much talking, Ona enjoyed it, Lucy respected the fact that she was doing this for relaxation, not for dumb chit chat, she hated when trainers were like that.

‘’Do you have a neck issue?’’ Lucy asked out of the blue.

Ona looked up, surprised but not in a negative sense ‘’yeah, how did you notice?’’.

‘’It’s stiff’’ Lucy stated, ‘’ I graduated as a sports physiotherapist’’ she offered as an explanation.

‘’Really?’’.

 ‘’Yes and right now I’m working on some injury research, stretching and massages are a great interventions for stiffness’’.

‘’So next time we start with neck stretches?’’ Ona joked.

Lucy nodded, ‘’best recipe is stretching – exercise – tissue massage’’.

''Well then, guess I'll do that next time, sometimes my neck really hurts, so I hope it will help''.

‘’Your neck hurts?’’.

‘’Yes, I always just assume it’s my stress traveling to my weak spot’’.

‘’Do you want me to massage that right now really quick? We’ve got-‘’ she looked at her watch, ‘’-10 minutes left’’.

‘’You?’’ Ona let out before she could stop herself.

Lucy crooked her head ‘’yeah?’’ she laughed, ‘’who else?’’.

‘’Ahh’’ Ona chuckled as she spotted the physio bench in the corner of the gym, ''that's where that thing is for''.

‘’Yup’’ Lucy said as she swayed on her feet, ‘’So cooling down? Or quick rub down of the neck?’’.

‘’Well if you’re offering..’’ Ona said as she looked at the big hands Lucy fiddled with, ‘’I do have to warn you that I’m a bit sweaty’’.

Lucy chuckled, ‘’if you weren’t I wouldn’t be good at my job’’.

...

Friday - Ona's penthouse

‘’Hello’’, Ona called out as she stepped back into her apartment. She felt amazing, Lucy was great with her hands and after the hot shower she took, she felt totally relaxed.

‘’How was it?’’, Sophia asked from behind her computer.

‘’fucking amazing’’ Ona said dreamily, before she stepped into the living room and snapped back to reality, ‘’uh yeah, it was good’’.

Sophia chuckled, ‘’whattt happeneddddd?’’.

‘’She’s hot’’ Ona said as she went through the fridge, ‘’and great with her hands’’.

‘’WHAT?’’ Sophia yelped, ‘’did you hook up with her?’’.

‘’Oh dios mío Soph! no, who do you think I am!’’ Ona shook her head amused, ‘’she gave me a sports massage’’.  

‘’Ohhh, hot and handy’’ Sophia chuckled.

‘’You sure you couldn’t book her for more than once a week?’’.

‘’I’ll try again for you’’ Sophia said with a grin, ‘’maybe I can book her for some nightly exercises’’.

‘’Soph!’’ Ona said sternly, ‘’no objectification!’’.

‘’Sorry miss Batlle’’ Sophia answered timidly, ‘’I’ll call them later’’.

‘’It’s okay’’ Ona smiled, ‘’thanks for getting groceries’’ she said as she took eggs from the fridge.

...

Tuesday evening - Bronze Fitness Forge, London

It was a couple of days later, Sophia had bribed Lucy Bronze’s secretary if she could at least ask the woman herself if she could do a couple of more lessons, ‘’Hello, yes, Miss Batlle’s PA, uhm, my boss, she wants to exercise two times a week and I was wondering if you had some more spaces available, she doesn’t mind if it’s outside of office hours, or if it costs extra’’.

Eventually she had persuaded the woman, one and a half times the rate for two hours in the evening, when Lucy actually exercised herself.

Sophia didn't mind making a little effort, she was just happy that Ona was okay with the trainer, that couldn’t always be said.

So this night, at a quarter to eight, Ona walked towards the building with the ‘Bronze Fitness Forge’ logo and headed in.

‘’Hey, miss Batlle’’ Lucy called out from a few meters behind and started jogging towards the door.

Ona held it open for her, ‘’you can call me Ona’’ she said as she let the woman pass.

‘’Oh right, hi Ona’’ Lucy smiled awkwardly, ‘’uhm, to the gym?’’.

‘’Mhmm’’.

Lucy unlocked the door and let Ona in, out of habit Ona walked to dressing room 2, the one she’d used earlier this week too.

Lucy hesitated about what to do, she cringed at herself, she wished she was a bit smoother, ''hey uhm, my stuff is also in 2'' she said as she stopped the door from closing.

''Oh'', Ona looked up, ''i can go to the other-

'''No i'll just take my bag'' Lucy rushed to say.

''Oh no'' Ona said, ''it doesn't bother me, you can change in here as far as I'm concerned''.

‘’O-Okay’’ Lucy said as she looked at the smaller woman, ‘’sure you don’t mind?’’.

Ona looked up with a smile, ‘’should I?’’.

Lucy looked startled ‘’No no, I was just --’’ she mumbled and swallowed the rest of the sentence.

Ona zipped her bag open and got her gym shoes out, she now stood with her back to Lucy, ‘’anyways, had a good dinner?’’ she asked, trying to start some conversation.

‘’Uh yeah’’ Lucy said, now also starting to get her things ‘’I cooked some chicken and vegetables’’.

‘’Nice’’ Ona said as she shimmied down her pants.

Lucy gaze fell on the Spaniards behind, she shook her head, she couldn’t be looking at a client like this, ‘’d-did you have a good dinner?’’ she asked, taking of her shirt.

Ona turned around and sat down on the bench to put her shorts on ‘’yeah I had-‘’  she lagged as she saw the shirtless woman infront of her, who was currently standing with her arms up, struggling to find her arm holes it seemed, she cleared her throat ‘’uhm, I had a business dinner, it was nice but sometimes I get a bit tired of it’’.

Lucy’s head popped up and they looked at eachother. Lucy smiled, ‘’is that why you needed more exercise?’’.

Ona didn’t feel the need to explain anything, frankly, there was not really anything to explain. She had settled for one time a week as she hadn’t known the woman was hot an amazing personal trainer, now that she knew, her assistant had booked her some more time, so she settled on just saying ‘’yes’’.

‘’What branch are you in anyways?’’ Lucy asked as she switched her pants.

‘’Uhm’’ Ona said as she took of her top, ‘’I am a real estate agent’’.

‘’Really’’ Lucy stared at her, partly because she was surprised, partly because the woman looked mesmerizing.

Ona sat up and digged through her bag, it was awkward that she still had to put on her sports bra ‘’yes, I have real estate in a few cities throughout Europe’’ she said and finally found the sports bra. She figured she just had to put no attention to it and quickly get it over with.

Bronze sat down to put her shoes on, ‘’oh.. real estate in a few cities throughout Europe’’ she repeated, ‘’impressive’’.

‘’Thanks’’ Ona said as she took her bra of, ‘’your business is too’’ she turned her head to Lucy ‘’how old are you anyways?’’.

Lucy looked up and blushed when she saw Ona’s bare back, ‘’uhm, I’m 32, and you?’’.

Ona smiled at her, ‘’25’’.

‘’Ah shit, we aren't past your bedtime, are we?’’ Lucy mocked and grinned.

Ona clutched her sports bra infront of her chest and turned around with narrowed eyes, ‘’don’t mock me’’ she said sternly, like how she’d put her workers in place. She had dealt with enough age discrimination, it annoyed her that Lucy did this.

Lucy apologized ‘’oh I’m sorry.. uhm.. I didn’t mean it like that’’. Ona turned around and quickly pulled the sports bra on,.

‘’Uhm, I will start to set up some things, see you in a bit’’ Lucy said before she quickly rushed out of the locker room.

Ona finished dressing up by putting her shoes on and followed her.

‘’Hey I’m sorry, it’s just-  Ona stopped as she saw Lucy carrying a weight plate to the matts.

Lucy smiled ‘’I’m sorry too, I am a bit stupid sometimes, you should take everything I say with a pinch of salt.. i suck at talking to people that’s why I chose sports’’.

‘’-sometimes people do not take me serious because of my age’’ Ona confessed, ‘’it’s a bit of a sensitive topic for me’’.

‘’I am sorry’’, Lucy said sincerely.

Ona shook her head, ‘’you’re aloud to make jokes, I should be able to deal with them’’.

‘’Noted, see if I can help you improve on that front too’’ Lucy grinned.

‘’too?’’.

‘’Oh yeah-‘’ Lucy said with renewed energy, ‘’I mean, I was going to ask you about it - but by the way you move, I think your neck feels better’’.

Ona smiled, ‘’oh soo much, I have had the best days honestly, how could I forget - I wanted to thank you for it, I feel so… loose, uh, supple’’.

Lucy held her hands up, ‘’magic hands’’ she said with a wink. Immediately cringing at herself.

Ona laughed, ‘’they seem to be’’.

‘’So’’ Lucy cleared her throat, ‘’stretching, than exercising, which I will leave you to do a bit more on your own than last time because I need to do mine as well, and then last 20 minutes another tissue massage’’.

‘’Sounds good’’.

The stretching went well, Ona learned a few exercises she had never done before, 'good for the back and neck' Lucy had said, and had followed them all before the real work started.

Lucy finished her warm up a bit earlier than she did, which made sense, as she had been warming up all day and she went to set up some weights for herself.

When Bronze started squatting weights with her back to Ona, she couldn´t help but have peek every once in a while.

After her lunges were done Ona asked what she was doing next.

Lucy proposed for Ona to do a bit of cardio on the stair-master, a machine she hated, but Ona agreed and went on it.

Lucy kept squatting, Ona saw her adding small, little plates to the bar each time she got it.

After a few minutes, the Spaniards thoughts got interrupted, the low grunts were swapped with a yelp, she was startled and almost fell of the stair-master, luckily enough she could jump of in one piece and put the machine off.

‘’What happened?’’ Ona said as she walked towards the English trainer.

Lucy looked up as she undid her waistbelt and wrist wraps, ‘’hm?’’.

Ona came closer, ‘’it sounded like you were in pain’’.

‘’Oh’’ Lucy said as she looked better at Ona, ‘’no I just broke my squatting record’’.

 Ona chuckled.

‘’Wait did it sound like was in pain?’’ Lucy laughed now too, ‘’I don’t know what to think of that’’.

‘’Well I’m glad you’re alive’’.

‘’and broke my PR’’.

Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’how much was it?’’.

‘’139,5 kg’’ (307.5 lbs) Lucy stated as she took out her phone, ‘’let me put it in my notes real quick and then I’m all yours again, I’m sorry for just directing you to the cardio machine, I had this on my agenda for tonight’’.

‘’You have a schedule for when you’re gonna break which record?’’ Ona laughed.

After Lucy had typed it in her phone she looked up, ‘’is that weird?’’.

‘’No’’ Ona shrugged, ‘’I like when people are driven’’.

‘’How much is your squatting PR’’.

Ona laughed, ‘’not even half of what you do, I think 50 kg, and that includes the bar’’.

Lucy chuckled, ‘’want to do 55?’’.

´´Let´s see if I can do 50 first maybe?’’.

Lucy first had her squat the bar alone and with 5kg increments she guided Ona to a 50kg squat.

At 50kg Ona had trouble getting up, her legs shaking as she did a rep for the 3rd time. She felt Lucy stepping a bit closer, ''you can do it'' Lucy said, ''and if not, I got you''.

Instead of feeling more at ease, Ona became more nervous. She felt Lucy's hands hovering just above her skin.

When she remained in her squatting position, with wobbly legs, Lucy held her sides, ''together then''.

With a little help, Ona stood up again, and immediately she racked the weight and stepped forward, shaking her legs.

‘’Legs tired from the stair machine?’’ Lucy asked.

Ona nodded ‘’think so, maybe next time we can try again’’.

‘’Oh we are’’ Lucy smiled, ‘’and now you’re doing 45, 3 sets of 4 reps’’ she said as she started changing weights.

‘’I don’t know if i-‘’

‘’-I believe in you’’ Lucy cut her off, ‘’and I’m spotting you so if you can’t I’ll help’’.

Ona looked at her with dark eyes, ‘’let’s just do something else’’.

Lucy’s head tilted, ‘’no, why?’’.

‘’I’m tired of squats’’ Ona said, mostly because she was and partly because she didn’t want to fail and have Lucy saving her, as she got way to distracted by the way she felt under their skin contact.

‘’Do your other trainers just accept that?’’ Lucy asked as she finished preparing the bar of weights, she stood infront of Ona now, ‘’in 5 sessions I’ll have you squat 55’’.

 Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’I don’t care about how much I can squat’’.

The English woman grinned, ‘’no but you did ask me to help you get sore muscles, If you just listen to me I can guarantee you will not be able to walk the stairs tomorrow, how does that sound?”.

Again Ona rolled her eyes, this time with a little smile ‘’fine’’ she said before quietly adding ‘’molest’’. (annoying person).

They took positions again, but Lucy stood a bit closer then last time. Ona was almost going to make a comment about needing room to breath when Lucy whispered something, ‘’think of your most annoying rival’’.

Ona took the weights on her shoulder, she figured to just ignore Lucy and started squatting, the first 4 went easy.

She racked the bar and stepped forward to shake her legs again.

‘’See, that helped’’, Lucy said ‘’come, another set’’.

‘’Your comment did nothing’’ Ona said, getting slightly annoyed at the woman.

‘’Oh’’ Lucy studied her face, ‘’sorry’’.

Ona took place under the weights again, ‘’okay, let’s get this over with’’.

With two squats her legs started quivering again.

Lucy let her figure it out by herself, she kept close, but didn’t say anything or touch her.

Ona took a deep breath and forced herself up with a deep breath out.

"Good job" Lucy said, but when Ona tried to hang the weight on the rack she was less pleased, "uh-huh, one more rep".

Ona groaned and kept standing there, doubtful about her abilities.

‘’Ona, one more’’ Lucy said sternly.

Ona was allergic to getting ordered around and almost wanted to stop but a fire lit inside her with Lucy’s next comment, ‘’what is it with youth and giving up’’.

She bit back a grumble and did one more squat easily before racking the bar again.

She shook her legs out while still being under the bar and after a few seconds she took it on her shoulders again, squatting with pure annoyance and anger, only at the last squat she had to do she struggled again.

‘’Is your anger already used up?’’ Lucy teased, ‘’I expected more spirit at such a young age’’.

With that she groaned and came up for a last time, angrily racking the weight.

‘’Good, shake it off and we’ll head to leg presses’’.

Ona turned around and looked at her instructor, ‘’more leg exercises’’ she grumbled.

Lucy grinned, ‘’I’ll talk to you on Friday, you’ll thank me’’.

Ona rolled her eyes and followed the English woman to the leg press.

After a long session it was finally time for the massage.

‘’You can take your shoes off, I’ll massage your lower body, back and neck’’ Lucy said.

Ona didn’t respond, ‘’sounds good?’’ Lucy tried.

‘’Oh yeah’’ Ona said tiredly, ‘’perfect’’ she said as she took off her shoes.

‘’Was I too harsh?’’.

Ona looked up at Lucy, ‘’hm, no’’.

‘’Sure?’’.

‘’Yeah I am, I’ll tell you if you go too far, I’m not shy about speaking my mind’’.

‘’Okay, good’’.

Lucy started massaging Ona’s leg and Ona couldn’t help but closer her eyes at how good it felt.

‘’Okay that was that, how do you feel?’’ Lucy said as she was done.

Ona smiled, ‘’great, thank you, I’m sorry if I came across as a bitch at one point’’.

Lucy grinned, ‘’at one point? Hmm..’’.

Ona slapped Lucy’s shoulder playfully, ‘’oh come on’’.

Lucy chuckled, ‘’I’m kidding, you don’t come across as a bitch’’ she looked at Ona with a mischievous grin, ‘’just a bit spoiled’’.

The Catalans mouth dropped open, ‘’I’m not spoiled!’’.

‘’I’m joking’’ Lucy said as she rested her hand on Ona’s forearm, ‘’I’m proud you finished those sets, that proves character’’.

‘’Oh’’ Ona furrowed her eyebrows, ‘’because I had a choice’’.

‘’Ofcourse’’ Lucy tilted her head, ‘’you just said you would speak your mind if you really didn’t want to do it’’.

Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’okay, maybe I did want to do it’’.

‘’Good’’ Lucy said with a smile as she withdrew her hand, ‘’well, you go shower, I have to clean up this place’’.

‘’I can help?’’.

‘’No’’ Lucy shook her head, ‘’I like to do it myself and I want to do a couple more exercises’’.

‘’You’re crazy’’.

‘’I’ll see you Friday’’ Lucy chuckled, ‘’and then I’ll make you do even more, because you shouldn’t be able to be this much of a smartass if those exercises really were that hard for you’’.

Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’yeah see you Friday’’.

In the dressing room Ona jumped straight under the shower, after quickly washing herself and rinsing her hair out, she walked to her bag wrapped in a towel.

As she dug for clean underwear her phone rang, it was Sophia, she had a couple of questions about a client.

‘’Why are you still working Soph?’’ Ona chuckled but as she looked at the time her smile faded, ‘’no way, 22.45 already?’’.

Now it was Sophia’s time to laugh, ‘’yeah got a bit carried away exercising huh?’’.

‘’So it seems’’ Ona said ‘’anyways, for mister Potter you-

-did you ask her number yet?’’ Sophia interrupted her.

‘’Soph! that would not be professional’’ Ona said.

‘’You think she’s hot, what’s wrong with asking a number’’.

‘’Yeah she attractive’’ Ona confessed, ‘’but I don’t even know if she’s a lesbian, maybe she’s just sporty’’.

‘’So ask’’ Sophia simply said.

‘’No I-

A knock on the door interrupted her.

Ona looked up to see Lucy standing in the doorway, ‘’You forgot your shoes’’ she smiled.

Ona’s face got redder than the 2,5 kg weight plates that Lucy’s gym owned, ‘’oh uh thanks’’.

‘’No worries’’, Lucy said as her eyes lingered on Ona’s body for a second before she redirected herself to face Ona and , ‘’see you Friday’’.

‘’Yeah’’ Ona smiled, ‘’see you Friday’’.

Lucy turned around.

‘’Oh and’’ Ona called out.

Lucy turned back around with a smile.

‘’uh, thanks for my shoes’’ Ona said.

Lucy’s smile faded a little but she nodded, ‘’ofcourse’’.

The dressing room door fell closed behind her.

‘’Aahhhhhhgggg’’ Sophia screamed in her ear, ‘’I felt the sexual tension through the phone’’.

‘’Sophia!’’.

‘’What, you fumbled so hard, you said thanks twice, for a second I thought you were going to ask her number’’.

‘’Yeah’’ Ona sighed as she thought about the fact that she was originally planning too, before remembering she had Sophia on the phone, ‘’and give you a listen in on my rejection, don't think so’’.

Sophia groaned, ‘’she likes you too, why are you so uncertain’’.

‘’Why are you so sure, anyways we’ll talk about that client when I’m home’’.

...

Wednesday morning – Ona’s penthouse

It was the next day, Ona woke up in her big bed as the curtain automatically opened and stretched.

As she was completely stretched out, she suddenly shrank, ‘’merda’’ she groaned as a cramp hit her left leg, she tried to hold the muscle but it took a while before the cramp went away.

After the pain had disappeared she got out of bed, walking to the bathroom, when she wanted to lower herself to take place on the toilet she cringed, she couldn’t just normally take a seat, so she held the wall and let herself plop down.

When she got back to her room after peeing, she grabbed her phone to Google what she could do best in this situation.

A protein-rich breakfast, a warm bath and some stretching exercises later, she felt a little better and started her workday.

...

Friday morning - Bronze Fitness Forge

‘’Good morning Property Princess’’ Lucy said as Ona stepped into the gym.

Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’allright Lucy Lift-a-Lot, what are the plans for today’’.

Lucy grinned, ‘’how were your legs Wednesday?’’.

‘’Terrible’’ Ona smiled, ‘’so perfect’’.

‘’Stairs?’’.

‘’Well, I don’t really take those, but the toilet was a pain’’.

Lucy laughed, ‘’good, I suggest more squatting today’’.

Ona scrunched her face, ‘’not to much please, I have this event tomorrow’’.

‘’Work on Saturday?’’.

‘’Well no, it’s like networking event’’.

‘’Oh, is that one of those thing were you have a stand and promote your business’’.

 Ona chuckled, ‘’yeah, but i’m not there with a stand’’.

Lucy tilted her head.

‘’I got invited to look at peoples stands’’ Ona clarified.

‘’Isn’t that like..’’ Lucy didn’t finish her sentence.

‘’What?’’.

‘’Boring?’’.

‘’Yeah’’ Ona laughed, ‘’but its good for my image to show up, and the event payed me to show up’’.

‘’Really’’ Lucy said with disbelieve, ‘’so you’re actually a big name in the real estate world?’’.

‘’I guess’’ Ona shook her head as she laughed, anyways I’ll be bored out of my mind because Soph is taking this weekend off to see her family’’.

‘’Soph?’’.

‘’’Sophia, my PA’’ Ona clarified.

‘’Oh right’’ Lucy nodded, ‘’she was on the phone bribing me’’.

‘’Bribing?’’.

‘’Yeah, you wanted two sessions a week’’.

‘’Oh that’’ Ona nodded slowly, ‘’yeah, I hope she was sensible about it?’’.

‘’Oh yeah yeah, it was not actually bribing, she asked nicely’’.

‘’Good, but anyways, I will be walking around all day, so I need some power left in these legs’’.

Lucy nodded and explained some stretches they were starting with.

..

After the session, where they went a little less extreme as the last time, Lucy gave Ona a massage again. Whilst working her back she broke the silence, ‘’do you not know anyone else in London?’’.

Ona looked at her confused, ‘’what?’’.

‘’For the event, you said you have to go alone, do you not know someone you could take?’’.

Ona shrugged ‘’everyone is on holiday, it’s very last-minute anyways and I wouldn’t drag someone with, I wasn’t kidding when I said it was boring’’ she said into the table.

‘’I think it would be entertaining to see how you talk to everyone professionally’’ Lucy chuckled and acted out a conversation she imagined Ona would have with another realtor. She mockingly acted out the situation, putting on different voices.

Ona’s shoulders shook from her laughter, ‘’I think you will greatly disappointed’’ she laughed.

‘’Yeah?’’ Lucy sad as she put on a pouty face, ‘’is it not like that?’’.

‘’No not at all’’ Ona chuckled, ‘’way more boring’’.

‘’I don’t believe you’’ Lucy challenged.

‘’Well you’re free to join at your own risk’’.

Lucy’s face twisted up in a weird mischievous way, ‘’are you asking me out Batlle?’’.

Ona grinned, ‘’no, I offer you the position to be my plus one to a very boring event so you can entertain me’’.

‘’Well I am free tomorrow’’ Lucy contemplated, ‘’would you like me as your companion?’’.

‘’As long as you don’t publicly mock me’’ Ona rolled her eyes.

Lucy grinned, ‘’I’ll try to keep that for when were alone then’’.

Ona sat up and narrowed her eyes at the taller woman ‘’or like, not do it at all’’.

‘’I’ll see about that’’ Lucy grinned, ‘’what’s the dress code?’’.

‘’uhm, I think you’re best to wear a suit, a light color’’ Ona said as she studied Lucy, ‘’ if you have that’’.

‘’I don’t know’’ Lucy scrunched up her nose, ‘’I’ll have to dig through my closet’’.

‘’Send me a pic, if it’s not good I’ll send some things you could try on’’.

‘’are you going to judge if I look good enough to join your side’’ Lucy laughed, ‘’wow’’.

Ona shrugged, ‘’it’s a cruel world’’.

‘’fine’’ Lucy smiled, ‘’can I get your number?’’.

Ona looked at her with big eyes.

‘’Or do you want me to send Sophia that mirror pic?’’ Lucy grinned.

‘’Oh right, no we’ll exchange numbers, it’s more convenient for tomorrow too’’.

‘’How late is it anyways?’’.

They spoke about the details until Lucy noted that her new appointment would arrive in two minutes. With that Ona went to the changing room and got under the showers, she couldn’t hide the fact that the thought of spending tomorrow with Lucy made her feel giddy.

..

Friday afternoon – Ona’s penthouse

‘’Okay, I’ll see you Monday morning’’ Sophia said as she embraced Ona, ‘’have fun with your hot date’’.

Ona rolled her eyes but didn’t deny her PA’s words, ‘’you have fun at your parents’ house’’ she wished Soph.

‘’Mhm, I will’’ Sophia said as she walked towards the door with her suitcase, ‘’see you Monday!’’.

‘’Bye Soph’’ Ona called out as she got distracted by her phone buzzing.

An unsaved number had sent her texts, she opened her phone curiously.

@ Bronze Fitness Forge: hey, this is Lucy, hereby my outfit, hope you approve 😅

@ Bronze Fitness Forge: *mirror selfie of Lucy in a mint green suit with a white blouse*

@ Bronze Fitness Forge: ignore my bare feet, sorry, I’ll wear shoes tomorrow I promise

Ona changed the contact name to Lucy and texted back.

@ Ona Batlle: Looks good, what shoes do you plan on wearing?.

@ Lucy: sneakers?

@ Ona Batlle: no.

@ Lucy: i don’t have much else

@ Ona Batlle: what size are you?

@ Lucy: a UK size 7

Ona asked her for her address and ordered her a few shoes and a few white blouses, from a store she had great relations with, making them deliver the products before 10 o’clock tonight.

...

Friday night – Ona’s penthouse

@ Lucy: why did I just receive 4 pairs of shoes and 3 white blouses

@ Ona Batlle: fit them, see which you like best

@ Lucy: I have blouses

@ Ona Batlle: your suit is nice, can’t ruin it with a cheap blouse

@ Lucy: how can you recognize that from a picture

@ Ona Batlle: I got taste

@ Lucy: spoiled

@ Ona Batlle: do you want to come still?

@ Lucy: *3 pictures in the different blouses*

Ona admired the way Lucy’s arms looked in the blouses, the woman was well fit, with one particular blouse she swore she could even recognize the outline of abs.

She chuckled when she noticed the shorts Lucy was wearing, Barcelona football shorts.

@ Ona Batlle: nice shorts 😉

@ Lucy: shut up, which blouse.

@ Ona Batlle: deffo the one with the green buttons

@ Lucy: that one feels a bit tight

@ Ona Batlle: it looks good, but if you feel like it will rip, I’ll go for the one with the collar that’s got leaves on the inside.

@ Lucy: what shoe do you like best, they all fit

@ Ona Batlle: blouse got brown buttons so maybe the brown Loafers

@ Lucy: great, they were the comfiest

@ Ona Batlle: pic of the complete fit?

@ Lucy: tomorrow, I don’t want to put everything on again

@ Ona Batlle: lazy

@ Lucy: demanding

@ Ona Batlle: you know me so well

@ Lucy: you send a pic of your outfit then

@ Ona Batlle: no.

@ Lucy: then you’ll just see tomorrow

@ Ona Batlle: fine

Lucy was disappointed Ona didn’t ask her to send a full outfit picture more, she would’ve done it with a bit more insistence, but she guessed Ona wasn’t someone who lowered herself to such things, she was sure Ona would never beg for anything.

...

Saturday afternoon – London, network event.

The event went great, Lucy had been the perfect acquaintance. Making jokes in quiet, boring moments, but shutting up when Ona was talking to people she needed to talk to.

Lucy had on her part also enjoyed the event, there had been going around servers with appetizers and drinks, although they tasted amazing, Lucy tried to stay modest and allowed herself to accept something once in every three time she got offered something.

It was also fun to be around Ona, the woman was classy, she looked beautiful in the emerald colored dress she wore. She wore white heels and had a white bag with her, Lucy didn’t know if she had seen anyone walk as comfortable and elegant in heels as Ona did.

The event had gone by quite quickly, it was already passed eight o'clock.

‘’Oh fuck’’ Ona whispered, pulling Lucy from her thoughts.

They were standing together after Ona had just finished another conversation with an old guy, Lucy had introduced herself too and Ona had told the man they were working on a project together, it was not true but Lucy didn’t mind, and the guy didn’t ask any questions about it anyways.

‘’What?’’ Lucy asked, turning towards Ona.

‘’Don’t look’’ Ona said discretely, ‘’my ex is there, I didn’t know she’d be here’’.

Lucy suppressed her curiosity and kept looking at Ona, ‘’didn’t end well?’’.

‘’No she cheated’’ Ona grimaced, ‘’she’s the worst, she plays unfair both in business and in her private life’’.

‘’That sucks, how long ago-

-oh my god’’ Ona interrupted her, ‘’she’s coming over’’.

As Lucy stood straight again to prepare for an uncomfortable encounter, Ona leaned in and whispered something to her ‘’It was a year ago, if you like you could act like my girlfriend, that would be funny’’.

Lucy grinned and looked at Ona’s face ‘’ofcourse babe’’.

Ona chuckled at the way Lucy took on the role immediately, ‘’if she questions us we answer one after the other’’ she quickly whispered when the women almost had reached them.

‘’Ona!’’ the woman said as she looked at the pair, ‘’nice to see you again’’.

‘’Evelyn’’ Ona said coldly, ‘’how are you’’ she said as the woman forced a greeting with two kisses on her.

‘’I’m good’’ Evelyn said as she directed her gaze to Lucy and eyed the woman, ‘’you to it seems’’.

Lucy extended her hand to the woman who was also wearing a suit, Lucy giggled a little inside at the fact that it was a dark colored suit, since Ona had asked her to wear a light colored suit, ''Lucy, Lucy Bronze'' she introduced herself.

‘’Evelyn Thomas, Thomas real estate’’ the woman said, ‘’what do you do’’.

Lucy smiled, ‘’I am a sports physio, I help injured athletes with their recovery, I am currently also doing research into knee injuries''.

‘’Charity work?’’ Evelyn rudely asked.

Lucy replied with a smile, ‘’well the research doesn’t really bring in money, but that’s a passion of mine, no, I earn my money with my gym, but I get if you’ve never heard of it, it is an quite expensive membership’’.

Evelyn huffed, ‘’sure’’ she turned to Ona.

Lucy stepped closer to Ona rubbed the small of her back before she let her hand rest there.

‘’How long have you two been together?’’.

Ona smiled ‘’about half a year, right Luce?’’. She asked sweetly as she turned to Lucy, who already had her eyes on her.

‘’Best half year of my life’’ Lucy smiled, ‘’It feels like last week that we met’’.

‘’Right babe?’’ Ona sighed out and reached to pet Lucy’s face and kept looking at her, hoping Evelyn would just take the hint and leave.

‘’Allright’’ the woman said, but the pair didn’t look up.

‘’Well, great saying you again Ona’’, she tried.

Ona let her hand glide from Lucy’s face and turned back to Evelyn ‘’oh yeah, I’ll see you around’’.

Lucy smiled, ‘’nice meeting you Evelyn’’ she said in an overly sweet voice.

Lucy took two glasses of champagne from a server that passed them, ‘’here you go darling’’ she joked as she handed Ona one.

‘’Thank you’’ Ona sight as she looked around, ‘’wow, this bitch is still looking at us’’ she whispered in Lucy’s ear.

‘’Behind us?’’ Lucy asked quietly, getting a bit more into Ona’s personal space.

‘’Yeah, don’t look’’.

‘’No I was curious if I could get your consent’’.

‘’For what’’ Ona chuckled.

‘’Touch your butt, I bet she would eat herself up, she is so hung up on you still’’.

Ona grinned and leaned in to kiss Lucy’s neck softly, ‘’do it’’.

The Catalan peeked from Lucy’s neck at the woman a few meters behind them, she saw the woman had her gaze already fixed on Lucy’s hand, the hand that had rested on her lower back until now, smoothly Lucy let her hand travel south and squeezed Ona’s bum. Ona looked back at Lucy’s neck, she didn’t feel the need to watch Evelyn’s face a second longer then necessary.

Ona chuckled as she felt a shiver run down her spine from the way Lucy’s strong hand dug into her clothed flesh.

Lucy rubbed the place she had just squeezed gently and let her hand rest on the small of Ona’s back again, just a bit lower then she had been before.

‘’Thank you’’ Ona quietly said.

Lucy looked at her with a wicked grin, ‘’it was a pleasure’’.

Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’not that, for playing along’’.

‘’I was talking about that’’, Lucy said with raised eyebrows, trying to come across honest, ‘’okay squeezing your butt was fun too I guess’’ she sighed.

Ona’s mouth hang open to act as if she felt offended, ‘’liar’’.

‘’No I feel a bit like a cheap whore’’.

Ona chuckled, ‘’a cheap whore?’’.

‘’You buy me clothes in exchange for physical services’’.

‘’You make it sound like I’ll make you sleep with me’’.

‘’are you not?’’ Lucy said acting disappointed.

‘’Lucy!’’ Ona said in disbelieve, ‘’are you proposing to come home with me’’.

‘’I mean, the house of the best realtor is probably very impressive, maybe you can give me a tour’’.

‘’I thought you joined me to distract me from work, not give me more’’.

Lucy shrugged, ‘’okay, worth a try’’.

Ona grumbled on the inside, she wanted Lucy to come with her, but she wasn’t about to beg, ‘’fine’’ she stated, ‘’let’s go then, this event is dead anyways’’.

..

They were stood in the elevator of Ona’s building, ‘’how are you so bold all of a sudden?’’ Ona asked.

Lucy smirked, ‘’bold, how?’’.

‘’You straight up asked me to sleep with you’’ Ona said as she studied Lucy.

Lucy held her hands up, ‘’I’m confident in my abilities to break personal records with you in several areas, the bedroom being one of them’’.

Ona’s jaw dropped, ‘’does that work on all the girls you hit on’’.

‘’No just the one that are attracted to me’’ she answered with a smug smile.

‘’I’m not- i- how do you-

Lucy grinned, ‘’the dressing rooms are not call-proof, or at least, if it’s a private call, you should probably choose another place from now on’’.

Ona blushed and groaned, ‘’you heard that?’’ she said with a scrunched up nose and palmed her face.

The elevator stopped and with an elegant tone it indicated the arrival to the top floor.

Lucy smiled as the smaller woman walked away with cutely blushed cheeks and opened the door, Lucy followed Ona who stepped in to her appartement.

When she took of her shoes Lucy did the same.

‘’wow’’ Lucy gasped as she walked over to the windows, ‘’this is amazing’’.

‘’Thanks’’ Ona said, ‘’do you want something to drink?’’.

Lucy turned around with a smile, ‘’maybe after the tour? I had some drinks there already’’.

‘’Okay’’ Ona said as she got herself a sparkling water ‘’Okay this is the kitchen, that is the living-

‘’nooo’’ Lucy pouted and walked back to Ona, ‘’the fun way, make me want to buy this place’’ she said as she discarded her jacket on one of the bar stools.

‘’You already would’’.

Lucy rolled her eyes ‘’Like how you-

‘’don’t roll your eyes at me’’ Ona blurted out before she knew it was happening.

Lucy’s mouth fell open, ‘’says you! You roll your eyes every once 10 minutes’’.

Ona walked around the counter and stepped into Lucy’s personal space, ‘’shut up, I can do what I want’’ she said with a grin.

Lucy looked her, quiet from the sudden closeness, ‘’you shut up’’ she said, coming out clumsier than she wanted.

Ona chuckled, ‘’make me shut up then’’ she said as she traced her hand along the row of buttons from Lucy’s blouse.

‘’If you don’t stop me I’ll kiss you’’ Lucy said as she leaned in.

Ona smiled against her lips, ‘’if you don’t kiss me I’ll book you a cab home’’.

Their lips crashed in a hungry, exciting kiss, Lucy was the first to introduce tongue in their facade and Ona cupped the back of her neck as she gladly accepted it in.

Lucy’s hands travelled to the hips she had been eyeing all afternoon, the smaller woman looking delicious at the way the dress hugged her figure just right.

The English pressed herself closer against the Catalan.

Ona broke the kiss.

They both panted as Lucy tilted her head in confusion, ‘’not okay?’’.

‘’How about a quick tour of the bedroom?’’ Ona answered instead.

Lucy gulped, ‘’please’’.

Ona grinned as she took Lucy’s hand and guided her to her bedroom, ‘’wow’’ she gasped for a second time this evening.

‘’Is this enough light for you?’’ Ona asked, ‘’if you want more light we have to close the curtains’’.

Lucy quickly turned to face the woman, ‘’yes, lights on and curtains closed please, I’m not about to be on display for everyone in London to see’’.

‘’that’s why you keep the light off’’ Ona chuckled, ‘’and it can be fun you know, exciting’’.

Lucy shook her head, ‘’nah, as much as I like the view, I bet the view in here will be way better’’.

‘’Oh quite the charmer’’ Ona said as she pushed the button and the curtains started closing, ‘’ let's see if you can live up to all that big talk’’.

Lucy walked over to her and went in for another kiss, much shorter this time, ‘’just give me the green light and I’ll make you experience things you have never before’’.

‘’sure Bronze’’, Ona said as she started to undo to buttons from her blouse, ‘’you have permission do what you want, just stop if I say so’’.

Lucy grinned, ‘’always princess, your wish is my command’’ with that she attached their lips again.

While they were kissing Lucy shook her blouse off, figuring Ona wanted that as she had been tugging on the ting for minutes now. She walked with Ona towards the bed, making her walk backwards. When they were almost there Ona broke the kiss ‘’take my dress off’’ she said breathlessly.

Lucy grinned, ‘’not yet, you look so pretty in it’’ she said before planting her tongue back in Ona’s mouth, a few small sounds escaped the smaller woman as Lucy deepened the kiss and reached to pull up Ona’s dress.

She pushed Ona on the edge of the bed and started kissing her neck, ‘’do you want this’’ she asked between kisses ‘’want me to make you feel so good’’ she asked before licking and sucking the sensitive spots on Ona’s neck.

Ona whimpered, ‘’yes’’.

‘’Allright pretty girl’’ Lucy said she dropped to her knees, she looked up to meet Ona’s eyes as she started to kiss the insides of her thighs, ‘’I bet you taste so good’’ Lucy said as her hands travelled along the skin of Ona’s legs, giving her goose bumps.

‘’Can I taste you?’’ Lucy said as she latched her mouth to Ona’s other leg, she saw the Catalan fighting to keep composure, ‘’y-yes’’ she said with a breathy voice.

‘’Are you so worked up already?’’ Lucy playfully asked as she redirected her gaze to Ona’s thong, a dark-green piece of lace, with an even darker green spot right between the Spaniards legs.

Lucy kissed closer and closer towards the woman’s heat, until she could smell her wetness. Lucy groaned and sat back, ‘’up’’ she ordered as she hooked her fingers in the underwear.

Ona quickly cooperated.

Lucy dropped the thongs on the floor and went back to kissing Ona’s bare legs.

‘’Fuck Lucy, get your mouth on me’’ Ona said jaded.

With a smug face Lucy looked at her, ‘’you still think you’re calling the shots here?’’ she said as she let two fingers glide along Ona’s slick.

‘’Please’’ Ona whimpered.

This was all Lucy needed to hear, the rest of the begging could be done later, now she needed to get a taste.

She spread Ona’s leg wide with her hands as she dove in, letting her tongue glide softly along Ona’s core to make her get used to it.

She reached out for Ona’s hand and placed it in her hair as she kept up the gentle exploration.

When she had found a spot that she felt made Ona quiver, she grinned and kept Ona’s legs apart more strongly before diving in completely.

Ona’s eyes rolled back in their sockets, she head never experienced head like this before.

The skilled tongue rippling against her clit, the strong hands, making her spread out for the English woman on the edge of her bed.

With the hand that was guided to Lucy’s hair she gripped the woman’s dark brown hair, pushing her deeper against her, Ona felt the orgasm building up already. If it didn’t feel this good she would surely have been embarrassed about it.

‘’merda, se sent molt bé’’ (feels so fucking good) Ona moaned before she bit her lips as she struggled to keep herself up, leaning with one hand on the mattress.

Lucy didn’t know what the woman above her was muttering about, but she figured the words were positive. With two fingers of her right hand she teased Ona’s entrance, at this her legs shocked. Lucy looked up.

Ona groaned at the loss of stimulation and looked down at Lucy, ‘’fuck, you can use your fingers’’.

Lucy smirked as she put the fingers inside Ona’s mouth, as Ona sucked at them, covering them in her saliva. Lucy returned to what she was doing, she let her tongue dance along Ona’s clit.

When Ona opened her mouth and moaned, Lucy pulled her hand away and with very little preparation she plunged them inside of the dripping hole between Ona’s legs, deserving a loud guttural moan.

Lucy curled her fingers and searched for Ona’s weak spot, when she’d found it she started thrusting her fingers in a steady but provokingly slow pace.

The difference in paces from Lucy’s tongue and her fingers drove Ona mad, she couldn’t keep her eyes open as her eyes kept rolling back and the arm where she was leaning on was shaking.

After a few second she dropped on her, the leg that Lucy wasn’t keeping open with a hand almost crashed into Lucy but she didn’t budge.

Lucy sat up a bit more and kept working her tongue and hand as she felt Ona’s walls convulsing around her fingers.

She groaned as she felt a new gush of wetness covering her fingers, and dripping on her hand.

With a loud moan and a tight fist in Lucy’s hair, the woman below her orgasmed.

Lucy smiled as she slowly came to a stop and sat back when the hand left her head.

Ona's legs came back together and she stretched with her arms above her, "that was…" she breathed out.

Lucy grinned, ‘’quick?’’ she offered.

Ona sat up and rolled her eyes, ‘’I was going to say good’’.

‘’Both can be true’’ Lucy with a smug face.

..

After a few hours well spent, Lucy and Ona were standing under her rain shower.

‘’Do you want to sleep here?’’ Ona asked as she was lathering herself up with soap.

Lucy grinned ‘’are you asking out of politeness?’’.

‘’Maybe’’ Ona grinned back, ‘’don’t want you to feel like a cheap whore’’.

Lucy laughed, ‘’no I’ll book my own cab home, thanks’’.

‘’I had fun’’ Ona said sincerely, ‘’thanks for coming along’’.

‘’Me too’’ Lucy returned, ‘’and I’m happy for it to be a one time thing’’.

‘’Mhm’’ Ona said, ‘’perfect’’. She was amazed with Lucy’s maturity about the matter, some woman could get very offended.

‘’What do you want me to do with the shoes and shirts?’’ Lucy asked as they were drying off.

Ona smiled, ‘’keep ‘em, give ‘em away, I don’t care, it costs me more to make effort returning them, then what I would get for it’’.

Lucy shook her head in disbelieve but thought it was very kind she had bought her the things, ‘’thank you’’.

Ona nodded, ‘’it was my pleasure’’.

As Lucy walked back to the bedroom to put her suit back on, Ona just put her robe on, she was home alone anyways, she couldn’t help but look at Lucy’s back and ass, looking perfectly toned.

She bended to pick her clothes up and turned around to lay it on the bed, she looked at the clothes before looking at Ona.

Lucy caught the Catalan staring at her abs and grinned, ‘’could I borrow a pair of briefs?’’ she asked, ‘’I can’t put this back on’’, she said as she held her underwear up.

Ona gaze traveled form Lucy’s muscles to the piece of cloth and she smiled, ‘’ofcourse’’ she said before going into her walk-in wardrobe.

She came back and handed Lucy the underwear, ‘’and you can keep this too’’ she winked.

After that, Ona left Lucy to get dressed and went to the kitchen, she downed the glass of sparkling water that was still on the counter and went to her table, opening the laptop that laid there.

In a few minutes she was completely indulged with the things on her screen and hadn’t noticed Lucy been done with getting dressed, now standing infront of her.

‘’Bye Ona’’ Lucy said as she walked closer to the woman.

Ona jumped at the voice breaking the silence, but quickly got her composure back and smiled, ‘’sorry, I was reading something’’ she stood up, ‘’I’ll see you Tuesday Lucy, thanks again’’.

‘’I had fun’’ Lucy smiled, ‘’I’ll see myself out, see you Tuesday’’.

..

Tuesday night –  Bronze Fitness Forge, London

Ona and Lucy had another session. They both thought back at their one nightstand as a perfect encounter, the sex had been good and they were both on the same terms as far as relationships are concerned.

Lucy didn't think Ona was the type of girl she’d ever date, but she could say that she was absolutely perfect in terms of appearance. The fact that she was shorter, the freckles, her slightly defined muscles and most of all her perfect butt. Ona’s ass might be her favorite thing about the woman.

Ona was happy Lucy had been on the same page as her about at sleeping over, she didn’t like waking up next to people, they often looked and smelt bad and Ona didn’t like anyone in the world enough to deal with that. Ona was happy to go to the woman’s gym again this day, she felt like her sexual frustration had been cleared up and was ready to maybe even break that squatting PR.

Lucy was a little bit nervous about seeing the woman again, hoping it wouldn’t be awkward, she had gotten in a bit earlier than last time, to make sure they could at least get dressed separately. Even though she would be lying if she’d say she wasn’t at least a little bit curious if the hickey’s she had left were still there.

She shook her head, she shouldn’t be thinking about this. Ona had been perfectly clear, heck she had wanted it herself, this was a one time thing and in a month they’d maybe never see eachother again.

Ona came walking in to the gym, disrupting Lucy’s string of thoughts.

‘’Hey Ona’’ she cheerfully said, but she couldn’t help but notice the fact Ona was wearing a shirt and shorts now, rather then the sports bra she had worked out in until now.

‘’Lucy’’ Ona smiled, ‘’ready to break some records?’’.

‘’I sure am’’ Lucy said, ‘’do we go squatting straight after warm up?’’.

‘’Yes’’ Ona replied, ‘’I hope I can do more then 50 today’’.

‘’Enthusiastic, i love it’’

‘’Oh you know me’’ Ona joked.

‘’Always enthusiastic to break records’’ Lucy said, after which she cringed at herself.

They warmed up and went to the weight rack, ‘’hey have you already set it up?’’ Ona asked, smiling.

‘’Ofcourse’’ Lucy said smugly, ‘’six sessions left until you’re doing 55’’.

Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’if you weren’t hot I would’ve hired another personal trainer six sessions ago’’.

Lucy chuckled, ‘’well first off all thanks, second off all, what do you think a good personal trainer does then’’.

The Spaniard shrugged, ‘’not being annoying’’.

‘’I am not annoying’’ Lucy said as she quirked her eyebrows.

‘’How would you describe a person using insults as motivation’’ Ona challenged her.

‘’motivational’’

‘’annoying’’

‘’did you do those reps or not’’

‘’yes’’

‘’so, motivational’’ Lucy stated as if it was settled.

Ona shook her head and walked over to take place under the bar, ‘’please keep from your motivations until really really can’t go anymore’’ she stood up and took the bar on her shoulders, ‘’until then, you spot me quietly’’.

‘’yes ma’am’’ Lucy joked as she took position behind Ona, ‘’I kidding, I’ll shut up’’.

Surprisingly, Ona squatted the 50kg the first 8 reps perfectly, without any problem.

‘’I’m impressed’’ Lucy said as Ona was shaking her legs to get ready for the last set, ‘’you finally found your right mindset’’.

Ona smiled but kept quiet, she couldn’t get distracted now.

She took place under the bar again and accidentally walked into Lucy with her butt.

‘’Oh sorry’’ Lucy chuckled as she took a step back, ‘’okay last 4, let’s go’’.

Ona blushed at the way heat traveled to her core from the brief touch.

She took the weight on her shoulders for the third time and for some reason they felt twice as heavy.

Ona didn’t squat but kept standing there with the weights in her neck.

‘’Come on Ona, you can do it’’ she felt Lucy’s hot breath in her neck.

‘’I don’t know if I-

‘’You can do it Ona’’ Lucy pressed up against Ona, and put her hand under her arms, ‘’we’ll do it together’’.

Ona gulped as she felt Lucy front pushed against her.

She squatted and easily came back up with Lucy’s strength supporting her, she wanted to rack the weights as she stood straight again.

‘’3 more Ona’’ Lucy said in her ear.

Ona groaned as she did another.

‘’Good job Ona’’ Lucy said, in a voice close to a whisper. Ona couldn’t help but think the woman was doing this on purpose, she was so close, Ona could feel her abs in her back, and her thighs against her own, no other trainer had ever spotted her like this.

After the four squats Ona racked the bar and turned around, Lucy stepped back.

She studied the woman’s face, Lucy casted her eyes to the ground.

Ona ducked under the bar and stepped into Lucy’s personal space, she noticed a slight blush on the English woman her cheeks, but then again that could be from warming up.

Ona shook her head, thinking it was her mind playing tricks with her, ‘’so what next’’ she asked.

Lucy looked up at her with surprise but quickly put on a neutral face again, ‘’have you ever bench pressed?’’.

‘’Ofcourse’’ Ona chuckled.

Lucy insisted on showing Ona the best technique and did a few quick sets with the weights she had grabbed for Ona.

However, when Ona did the sets with those weights it went a lot less smoothly.

After the set Ona set up and set the weights down on the ground.

Lucy took place on the bench next to her, ‘’have you ever heard about the mind-muscle connection?’’.

‘’no’’ Ona said as she shook her head.

‘’Okay, so during an exercise touching the muscle is a great way to help increase the mind-muscle connection. When you physically touch the muscle, it provides tactile feedback that can be used to better understand which muscles are being targeted and how they should feel during an exercise’’. Lucy explained.

‘’Look’’ she said as she did a bicep curl, ‘’I am working my bicep right now, so then I’ll tap or touch the muscle and that will eventually help with increasing strength in that muscle’’.

Ona sighed, ‘’okay, so you are going to be poking my biceps as I bench press’’.

‘’With a bench press we target arms, shoulders and chest’’ Lucy said, ‘’one of the most useful exercise to work on your mind-muscle connection with, as you automatically start to use the muscles that are touched more then when you just do it, it helps with knowing from where you need to provide strength into the push’’.

‘’Okay lets do it professora’’ Ona chuckled.

While she was benching the weights Lucy poked the concerning muscles, but Ona couldn´t really take it serious, she was getting distracted with the way Lucy´s hands were resting on her chest now, just above her boobs.

´´don´t be so distracted Ona, focus´´ Lucy said, as she noticed Ona slowing her pace.

´´Allright´´ she said, and Lucy retracted her hands at her sudden harsh voice, the effect she hoped it would have, she dropped the weights besides her, ´´you sit here´´ she said as she stood up.

Lucy looked at her confused, ´´what?’’.

‘’Go sit here and do bench presses’’.

Lucy was confused but went to do what Ona ordered, as she had took the weights in her hands she started, ‘’just like this’’ she carefully said.

‘’Yes’’ Ona said as she took place on Lucy’s lap, ‘’go on, keep going’’ she said as she let her hands travel along Lucy’s arms, shoulders, chest and ended at her abs, as Lucy stopped and looked confused at her she repeated what the English woman had told her earlier, ´´don´t be so distracted Lucy, focus´´.

Lucy chuckled, ‘’I wasn’t sitting on your lap’’.

‘’I wasn’t grinding into your ass’’ Ona bit back.

Lucy set the weights besides her, ´´I’m sorry.. I couldn´t..

´´couldn´t what Lucy?’’ Ona sat as she leaned closer towards Lucy’s face, ‘’couldn’t help but wanting to feel my ass?’’.

The English woman swallowed hard, she knew it wasn’t professional of her.

Ona bit her lip as she looked at the woman squirming below her.

She leant to whisper something in Lucy’s ear, ‘’I am going to take a shower’’ she said before softly laying a single kiss in Lucy neck and getting up.

Without turning around she walked towards the changing room, hoping Lucy would follow her.

Lucy scrambled to sit up and wondered what the fuck just happened, she was very confused, a part of screamed that she should follow the woman, another part said to stay in the gym, as she had done more then enough.

-I am going to take a shower-, the words repeated over and over in her head, if Ona really wouldn’t have wanted her to follow her she would’ve surely said something else right, and not give her a kiss.

Without more contemplation Lucy jumped up, she hurried to the changing room and got in, the shower was already running, Lucy spotted Ona’s clothing on the bench.

‘’Uhm’’ Lucy cleared her throat, ‘’sorry’’.

‘’I can’t here you’’ Ona called from under the water, ‘’what did you say?’’.

Lucy  stepped closer to the shower, the shower was just an extension of the dressing room, separated by a tiled wall and a corner, in there were 4 showerheads, which turned out to be the stupidest setup ever, as only one person showered here at a time, but they hadn’t thought about it like that when she helped designing the place.

‘’Sorry’’ she tried again.

Ona chuckled, ‘’Luce come here’’.

Lucy stepped along the wall and was met with a very wet, very naked Ona.

Ona grinned and walked towards Lucy, ‘’it’s okay’’ she said before pressing the taller woman against the wall, ‘’but now you've triggered something in me’’.

‘’w-what’’.

‘’Strip’’ Ona said coldly.

Lucy did as told and stepped out of her shoes before she threw her clothes in to the dressing room, in the same undressed state as the Spaniard she walked back to her.

‘’Good’’ Ona said as she pulled Lucy by her wrist to join her under the weak beam of warm water.

Lucy closed her arms around Ona and pulled her in for a deep kiss.

Ona groaned and broke the kiss, ‘’I don’t know what it is but I feel a weirdly big amount of attraction towards you’’.

Lucy narrowed her eyes, ‘’thanks I guess, I think you’re very hot too’’.

‘’No’’ Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’I mean, I have never not been able to suppress the urge to fuck someone’’.

Lucy smirked, ‘’it’s hard when it’s that good’’.

Ona rolled her eyes again, ‘’shut up, your dumb words turn me off’’ she said before kissing Lucy again.

The English woman grinned against Ona’s lips as her hand roamed Ona’s body until they settled between her legs, ‘’Do you get wet when you’re turned off?’’ she asked with an annoying smirk on her face, ‘’or where you lying’’.

‘’I am not lying’’ Ona said as turned them around, ‘’you’re the hottest when your mouth is closed’’.

Lucy chuckled as Ona dropped to her knees and kissed along her upper thighs. ‘’Or when you are cumming’’ Ona added before tugging one of Lucy’s legs on to her shoulder.

She made sure Lucy’s other leg was planted firmly on the ground before she buried her head in between the woman’s legs. Lucy closed her eyes as the shorter woman hungrily started eating her out. Ona reached around Lucy to grab her ass and guided her to grind down on her face. The muscular woman let out a groan and gripped Ona’s hair. The groans of Lucy and humming of Ona echoed in the tiled room.

 With a hand coming down on the Catalans shoulder, pressing into her, she almost lost balance for a second, but she recovered and gripped tighter into the flesh of Lucy’s ass while she kept fucking with her tongue in and out of her entrance.

The leg that was hanging over her shoulder started jolting as Ona heard the breath of the woman above her get more and more unsteady. Lucy felt she was about to come undone and braced herself on Ona and the shower wall, grabbing the rod where the shower was connected to.

She bit her lips as she looked down at the beautiful woman bobbing her head between her own legs, she grabbed the hair she was holding and pulled at the roots as she pushed the head deeper into her core. Ona moaned at the act, a shiver traveled along Lucy’s spine at the vibration.

‘’Fuck’’ she breathed, ‘’I’m cumming’’.

At that last word her voice went up her voice went up an octave and her eyes rolled back while an electric pulse travelled through her body. Ona kept lapping at Lucy, dirty sounds filling the room, only when Lucy’s hips started jerking from sensitivity, she stopped. Only now she realized how hard she had been holding onto Lucy and she caressed the skin gently before pulling her hands back. She sat back and stood up to look at Lucy.

The English woman wore a dopey grin, with hooded eyes she smiled at Ona, ‘’that was amazing’’ she said as if she was under the influence of drugs.

‘’Good’’ Ona said, ‘’because I need this to be our last time’’.

At those words Lucy seemed to get sobered up immediately, ‘’I’m not done’’ she said.

Ona rolled her eyes but couldn’t ignore the way she felt her core pulsing at Lucy’s hungry gaze. Lucy stepped closer and kissed her. Lucy grinned as she felt the Catalan pushing herself against her, almost searching for some kind of relieve with the way her core searches for one of Lucy’s thighs.

‘’Not here’’ Lucy said as she broke the kiss, ‘’come home with me’’.

PART 2

[st4rgzer]

now playing…SO LONG, LONDON (spencer reid)

summary: spencer realizes how much damage he had been causing you.

genre: angst with fluffy ending

cw!: idk relationship problems?😭 also use of y/n and y/l/n (your last name)

a/n: so since y’all wanted a happy ending version! here it is, it isn’t quite like the song but yeah, you guys get the point. masterlist

tension protruded eagerly from the silent room. it was dim, you had left some candles lit but that was it. your cheeks were wet and hot. but somehow you still felt an adamant numbing sensation of coldness. your weary bones hugged your knees, sniffles breaking through the silence.

“how long did you think i could’ve held on” you muttered through your broken voice.

“what?” he lifted his head from in between his legs where he had his hands pressed to the back of his neck.

“how long did you think i could’ve held on to you? were you just going to let me destroy myself, give everything i had just for you to crack a smile?” you spoke loudly now, sharp words that stung as spencer heard every one of them.

he didn’t respond. instead, he just listened. he knew the last thing you wanted from him right now was for him tp talk back, so he let you talk.

“fuck, even my friends said it was not right to be scared! not of you, but of how quickly your temperament can change from one moment to another. every breath that i take feels like im stealing it from you, like- like when i do finally get to do so, its short and doesn’t last long until i have to hold my breath again.”

“do you resent me, spencer? is that what this is? you left the BAU after you got back from prison, and i thought it was to settle down, make me your wife. but you never wanted this, did you?” spencers head perked up. his demeaner changed. he went from attentive and remorseful to stern.

“do not say that. “ he pointed a finger at you “y/n y/l/n don’t you, for a second, think i regret any minute i’ve ever spent with you, i regret a lot of things in my life but meeting you, loving you? i’ve never thought twice about that. you are my number one priority in this life, and im sorry i couldn’t give you everything you wanted, at least not right now. but i promise, i swear on my life, if that even means anything, that i’m going to get better. and i know actions speak more than words, but please, please hold on. i’m not going to insist you stay here with me, but just promise you’ll come back when you’re ready? i love you, y/n, and i hate myself for even thinking that i hurt you.” his tone was indulgent, pleading almost. he had stood up and waved his hands frantically as he punctuated each word, meaning every one. his frazzled hair and big brown eyes kept you at bay.

for a few minutes there was silence as you quietly digested his words.

“do you mean that?” you whispered, fragile, as you looked up at him.

he nodded his head, looking away and blinking a few times. trying to hold in the tears that painfully pricked his waterline.

you sighed, attempting to weigh the pro’s and con’s of the situation, but you loved him. a mental list of the good and the bad wasn’t going to decide the fate of your life. in every relationship there’s hell in heaven, eventually, happiness comes back. all you knew was that this man encapsulated your whole being with nothing more than love and affection, so you knew that this was nothing but a small dent in the glass case that encased the rose that was your love.

you opened your arms, he hesitantly got down to your level. you held him tightly, as if the weight of the wind was to carry him away at any moment. he buried his head in qthe crook of your neck, sniffling as he let out soft sobs, and whispers of apologies.

eventually, the tears ceased. and you both laid there, enveloped. consumed by each other, hands caught in spencers hair from raking through it, as sleep caught onto you. spencer kissed the bridge of your nose gently.

“i love you”

“i love you too”

a/n: guys idk how to feel about this one, this might have been my least favorite so far😭

taglist: @ilovesadiesink @sp3ncelle @lvtilzs @bunnylov-3-r @bellasprettywords

*comment to be added*

[writing-in-the-impala]

Secret Smokes (Part 10)

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, drinking, teacher-student relationship, angst, jealousy, fluff, smut.

Word Count: 2960

A/N: A lovely human asked me today if this fic is over and I thought damn I got to update quick before I lose all my readers. Hope 2024 is treating you all well, here's to the first post of the year!

 | SERIES MASTER LIST (All chapters) |

Previous Chapter, Part 10, Next Chapter

You opened your eyes scanning the room you're in, first you saw the curtains shut. Clothes neatly pilled on the side, a messy stack of books and parchment. Then you turned around and saw the back of Remus's head as he slept peacefully. Thoughts of guilt, lust and memories flooded your head. You began to think whether he regrets last night, was it just a drunk mistake, what do you say to him when he wakes up. You felt him move and turn towards you, on his face a gentle smile. "Morning dear, how'd you sleep?" He asked and kissed your forehead.

"Really well, you?" He scooped you closer with his arms to his chest.

"Let's ignore the conversation we have to have now and just savour this moment." He whispered while cuddling close to you.

"I like that idea." You replied breathing in his smell. Your heart felt full and you felt so comfortable like this was the place you were waiting to be your whole life, and he didn't seem to regret it but rather welcome it.

"Now dear would you like some coffee? Breakfast?" He asked softly not letting you go.

"What a gentleman." You joked in return.

"I try my best." He said with a wink before kissing the top of your head and standing up, he put on a T-shirt and his trousers from last night. "I'll start making the coffee, rest as long as you want."

You lay there in naked confusion and bliss, you were happy but you were confused. You had no idea how you will face him in class after waking up in his bed. You got out of bed putting on yesterdays clothes and grabbing one of Remus's sweaters for warmth before making your way down to the kitchen. The room smelt of coffee, Remus looked younger for a moment with messy hair and wearing no socks on the cold floor as he made coffee. He turned around with a smile. "Good morning, nice jumper." He said with a wink. He winked a lot you noted, maybe he was just as nervous as you right now. "Do you like it with milk or black?" He asked.

"Splash of milk please, no sugar." You confirmed and he followed your instructions and handed it to you. "Perfect thank you."

"Care to join me on the roof for a smoke and coffee? Then we can think of breakfast plans." He said walking towards the stair case and you followed. You sat down side by side on two chairs, it was cold but you didn't mind. "You know this has always been my guilty pleasure, coffee and a cig the morning after, I thought it made me cool." He admitted looking out onto London.

"It makes you look cold, I'm not sure if cool is the right word." You said and he laughed lightly to response, shaking his head.

"It used to calm my nerves because I wasn't sure what to do with a girl in the morning after, how guys are meant to act, so I figured out to start my mornings with a smoke and conversation, not that this is a common occurrence."

"What you don't sleep with your students often?" you joked to ease your discomfort about this whole situation.

"I don't sleep with anyone often, especially students."

"Why?"

"Because they're my students and I have somewhat of a professional-" You interrupted him by saying "No I mean why don't you sleep with people often."

"Y/N you know what I am."

"So?"

"So, being around me, close to me is not only dangerous but also a burden to a persons life. Therefore I've found it's better to focus on solitude and not burden anyone else who I may possibly care for. Y/N I am not a man I am-" You once again cut in to stop Remus Lupin from his usual self-loathing pit. "I'm hungry."

He quickly checked his watch "We could go to a bakery about 5 minutes away they should be open, we can grab some pastries if you'd like."

"What time is it?" You asked in fear.

"Half past nine, why do you need to be somewhere?" He asked with a slight painful tang behind his voice.

"The Weasleys, I was meant to be staying there. I need to go before they all wake up." You said leaving your coffee and heading down to Remus's bedroom, Remus followed you down.

"I'm sure you'll be okay, just tell them you fell asleep on the sofa." He tried to calm you as you put on your jacket and gathered your belongings.

"No, I'll never hear the end of this. Molly will kill me." You said in panic.

"Y/N you're an adult they'll understand, just stay finish your coffee, I can write to Molly that you are here." He said placing a hand on your shoulder to calm you.

"I'm sorry Remus I don't want to run like this but I have to, I don't want to try and explain why I'm here in the morning. Happy new year." You simply said to him as his face dropped into a frown.

"Happy New Year." He said quietly and you apparated to the Weasleys house. You didn't know that you left Remus with a feeling of enormous guilt, he felt like he used the opportunity of you drunk to sleep with you and now you regretted it. He was reminded of your age by the way you rushed home, you may be eighteen but you still sometimes behaved like someone's daughter and that made Remus feel uneasy about perusing you, especially when you have to rush home the morning after. Rush home to a friend of his. The guilt ate him alive as he cleaned the coffee that you didn't finished and put out your half-smoked cigarette. In that moment he made a decision, he messed up, he got close to you and kissed you because he couldn't control himself and based on how you ran out the house you obviously regretted everything.

You on the other hand felt guilty for leaving, Remus treated you nicer than anyone else you've ever slept with, he made you coffee, he cared, it filled your heart with warmth, you knew you'll have to apologise for how you left. You slowly walked through the house up to the spare room you were staying in when you bumped into Percy who was going to the bathroom. He gave you a quick look up and down in a judgmental way and didn't even say hi, then as you passed the twins' room they opened the door with big grins. "Nice jumper." They both said at once. You looked down and saw you left in Remus's jumper.

"Shit." You took it off in that very moment in panic. "Don't tell anyone." You warned them.

"Our lips are sealed." They said in unison. "Although we will high five him next time we see him." Fred shrugged.

"Don't you dare Weasley." You warned.

"So how was sleeping with our dear professor?" George asked.

"Was it everything you dreamed of?" Fred added.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Was it at least good?" Fred pushed.

"The best I've ever had. And he made me coffee in the morning and hugged me and kissed me." You felt like you were melting just thinking about it.

"The best?" Fred repeated.

"Who knew prof would be so good." George added.

"Let's not talk about it, I actually have to sit in his class after this." You felt a bit sick at the idea, that was the end of that conversation. You quickly went to take a shower and change. After that you wrote a letter to Remus apologising about leaving so soon and thanking him for the coffee. He didn't reply. You sent him another three letters over the next few days making sure he's okay however he didn't reply. So you got the message, and he did regret it, he was just being nice to you in the morning because he was a good person. You were nervous to go back to Hogwarts but you decided you won't let New Years stop you. You came back a week before term, and you thought it may be good to bump into Remus before term starts to talk. You went to the bridge but he didn't, you knocked on his office but no one answered, you even tried to find him using the map but it was like he was always waking away from you.

You finally saw him on the first day of term, he was sitting eating breakfast in the great hall with all the teachers. You received and owl and it was from him but he didn't look up at you at all.  The letter read:

"Welcome back to the new term miss L/N.

As previously agreed our tutoring continues to prepare you for you exams.

- Professor R.J.Lupin"

You looked up at him but he didn't look at you.

In his lesson that day you sat nervously in your seat, you were sitting next to Sebastian as you and Percy weren't on talking terms after New Years. "Are you okay?" Sebastian whispered watching you move around in your seat nervously waiting for Lupin to arrive to the classroom.

"Just nervous about exams." You explained to him, he put a hand on your leg to steady it. "It's okay you'll do great, I've got some calming fraught if you want it though." He said and you nodded. He slipped  you the potion and you drank it, you didn't realise that around the time Sebastian put his hand on your leg Remus was walking in the classroom and watching the whole interaction. "Better?" Sebastian asked and you nodded in response. "Thank you." You said and he gave you a smile before moving his hand from your leg as you had stopped shaking from stress. Remus cleared his throat as he stood at the front of the classroom. "Welcome back I hope you've all had a good new year," Remus said, looking at you intensely during the last three words. You instantly felt hot however because of the position you didn't feel worried instead slightly turned on as you looked back at him, after a moment of eye contact he ripped his eyes away.

"Now I'm sure you're all nervous, but I will get you as prepared for your exams as possible all I ask is for you to listen and pay attention and that way I can help you." He continued, his eyes kept catching yours as if he couldn't look away and you were now enjoying the attention as all stress had left your body. However the closer to the end of the lesson it got the more the potion started to wear off and you could no longer look Lupin in the eye, he noticed the change in you and was very confused, he simply couldn't read you, he knew you took a potion however he wasn't sure what you took, he suspected it was calming draught but he had to ask you in your tutoring session if you show up. You considered skipping it but you knew you had to speak to Remus sooner or later and you didn't want to fail your exams because of him.

You lightly knocked on his office door filled with a bit of anxiety, he was sitting marking papers when you came in and he smiled gently at you but you could see he was on edge just like you. "Good afternoon Miss L/N. I hope you had a good Christmas." He greeted you and it filled you with anger that he was just pretending nothing happened.

"Can we talk?" You asked quietly sitting down on a chair near the front.

"Is it about your studies?"

"Obviously not." You snarked and he sighed pulling up a chair opposite you.

"We shouldn't, it's my responsibility to prepare you for your exams and" he began before you interrupted with a simple. "Remus." He loosened his tie and sighed.

"I'm really sorry Y/N. I'm really sorry for what I did, I should've been the responsible adult, I'm your teacher for fuck sake." He began and he looked visibly upset.

"Do you regret it?" You asked gently.

"Obviously, I shouldn't have put you in that situation. I pushed myself onto you, I knew my feelings for you I shouldn't have spoken to you at all if I was drinking."

"But I wanted to kiss you."

"Y/N I'm your teacher." He said as a matter of fact.

"So I don't care do you? Answer honestly."

"No." He shook his head and swallowed hard.

"Would you want to kiss me again?" He did say anything he just looked at your lips. "Answer honestly Remus." You added and he shook his head.

"Then do it." His eyes didn't leave your lips for a moment and then he made eye contact with you and he simply said "I can't."

"Why?" You asked him pleading.

"Because I am falling incredibly hard for you, and all I'm going to do is hurt you. Because I am your teacher. Because I can't offer you anything much more than a tea and a great music taste and an awful lot of knowledge on books."

"I don't care, you made me feel special, you make me feel loved."  You continued to beg.

"Don't lie to me I saw how you ran out the house." He said with a angry and annoyed tone.

"I wrote to you three time to apologies, and you ignored every single letter." You said feeling like you're about to cry.

"You did?" His complexion changed suddenly.

"Yes. But I got the message that you rather ignore all this happened."

"Y/N, I wanted to make you coffee, take care of you and then talk to you like an adult about what this means for our lives here, but you ran out and the only letter I received was this from Percy." He said pulling out a letter that was crumbled up in his pocket, the address was Hogwarts, of course, all your letters went to the cottage but he didn't go there he came straight to the castle it all clicked.

"Why did Percy write to you?" You asked softly and he just handed you the letter to read.

"Dear professor Lupin,

As head boy I urge to remind you that you are our professor within and outside school grounds. And I believe you don't need to be reminded of school rules, especially for a man with your condition losing this job may be disastrous.

Happy new year, P. Weasley Head boy of Gryffindor"

"That prick." You said quietly and looked up at Remus. "I promise I didn't tell him anything."

"How would he know?" Remus asked he looked like you betrayed him.

"Your jumper," you began and Remus have you a puzzled look. "I came home in it the morning after and Percy saw me, he gave me a look of hate, we haven't talked since." You answered honestly. "Remus I'm sorry about this, can you ignore it and can we have this conversation based on our own opinions." You said and Remus sighed.

"No matter what I am your teacher and we've crossed a line."

"How do you expect me to focus in your lessons after what you've done to me professor?"

"Fuck you calling me professor like it doesn't turn you on." He said looking away and taking a deep shaky breath. "Can I kiss you one last time dear?" He asked and you nodded. And he leaned over the desk to kiss you slowly, the kiss was desperate and slow, as if he was savouring the moment, he put a hand on your cheek and tucked your hair behind your ear just like he did that first morning.

"Don't make it the last." You said as soon as he pulled away.

"Dear, as soon as you realise I'm just a broke man who's been cursed since childhood the sooner you'll realise you don't want me, so many men will be able to offer you the world, I won't."

"I hate you, I hate that you won't even give yourself a chance to be happy." You said feeling like you're about to cry.

"Y/N I'm trying to protect you." He pleaded.

"Or maybe you're just trying to protect yourself from feeling any good emotion in your life?" You said standing up. "Maybe you don't realise you're hurting me by not even trying, by leading me on."

"I'm sorry Y/N, I truly don't know what I'm doing, I wish I was, let's leave this conversation for another day let's start working on revision."

"Remus how am I meant to sit here and listen to you teach me while all I can think about is wether you like me just for sex, wether it's because you get turned on by fucking your student, wether you're just lonely and I'm convenient or wether an ounce of you actually cares about me."

"Y/N, if you want to have this conversation with me you need to act your age not frantically shout your thoughts at me like a school girl." He said harshly his mood becoming a lot more authoritarian.

"I am a school girl! I hate you Remus Lupin, I hate how you treat me, I hate you for making me feel like I mattered for you to just change your mind when it's convenient. I hate Percy for that letter. But I really hate you." You said pushing the tears away from your eyes.

"I'm not surprised, I hate me too." He said looking down at the desk and then he went silent.

"No Remus. I didn't mean-" You began realising your emotions got the better of you, truly you were scared about how much you liked him, how dependent you were becoming on him, how life wasn't the same without him.

"You've said enough. Goodbye." Remus said turning around and walking upstairs to his office without a single turn back to face you. And that was the last time you saw Remus Lupin that week, the next lesson you had with Lupin was taken over by Snape, and even your tutoring was now with McGonagall. Lupin returned on Friday evening, you saw him in the great hall during dinner, that's when you received and owl from him which was rare during dinner...

NEXT CHAPTER | More stuff I wrote

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[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

DEAD IN THE HEAD

KINKTOBER DAY 28 - DUMBIFICATION WITH JIM

Pairing.| Jim x fem!reader

Summary.| You put yourself into a close call, Jim saves you and wonders how dumb you really are.

Warnings.| Dubcon, head m!receiving, dumbification, deep throat, degrading.

Word count.| 1.2k

Notes.| Had to do him on the 28th

“How fucking stupid are yah, aye!” Jim lectured in hushed tones as he shoved you into your most recent hideout, a small apartment building west of London. 

Almost tripping on over your cheap sneakers, you sniffled back your tears, your body still trembled from the terrifying close call. If it wasn’t for Jim and his handy baseball bat, you’d be ripped from limb to limb instantly. Jim huffed out in frustration and dropped the bat to the floor, his hands rested behind his head as he paced around the room. The only sounds were his heavy breaths and your quiet sobbing. 

It was all your fault, even though you had no cruel intentions. You just wanted to help out for once, so you snuck out to a shopping strip in hopes of finding more supplies. Jim warned you against it when you first considered it. Too dangerous for you, he claimed, he’d always have to accompany you, he continued. But you were sick of contributing nothing to your duo. 

As you stood in the middle of the room like a lost puppy, Jim felt a pulsation of pity towards you. Jim exhaled as he tugged off his blood stained shirt, his pale skin filled your orbs, you gulped at his thin frame emerging closer to you. Not gently, however not roughly, he pulled off your stained hoodie, your hands rubbed over your bare arms. Jim bit his lip at how cropped your singlet was. You pouted at the specs of dried blood on the bridge of his nose and forehead.

The two of you were already sleeping together, the apocalypse split everyone’s souls in half, you both desired someone to hold onto, to comfort one another. The attraction was always clear and love had been growing daily. Jim took you into his arms, he swayed you gently, his eyes bore into your skull as your gaze remained low, fearful of his justified anger towards you.  

“Almost got us killed out there” Jim mumbled, his cold lips close to your ear, you felt his breath fan against your skin, it spiked up your goosebumps. 

You tried to apologize, but the words became mush as it left your lips, you whimpered in total humiliation. Jim chuckled at your timid behavior, how could he stay mad at you when you were so damn helpless? 

“How dumb are you?” Jim whispered. 

“Jim?” you frowned, confusion whacked over your expression. It only seemed to prove his point. 

“Come on, tell me how fucking dead in the head you are” Jim laughed as he tapped his fingers on your skull. 

Your orbs darted around as you tried to read the room, Jim’s expression was so sternly serious that you weren’t even sure what was the right answer. Surprisingly, he was quite patient with your answer, he admired the way your lip trembled and eyes swelled with hesitation. 

“I’m really dumb” you eventually whispered. 

“Keep on going” he exhaled, his hands rubbing against your lower back.

“Jim-” 

“Go on!” Jim hissed and he pulled your body against his, his erection poked against your stomach. 

You whined out, your hips awakened, desperate to hump against him. Sex always took the pain and angst away, it was a blissful distraction, for the both of you. Your thighs squeezed together, you fell to your knees, your hand shot up to rub his bulge and Jim sighed out slowly, his jaw stern and hips poked forward. 

“So fucking dumb, I can’t survive without you” you murmured, your mouth watered up, glistering eyes blinked frequently.  

“I know baby, you’re only good enough to please my cock it seems” Jim chuckled in a demeaning tone as you eagerly unzipped his pants. 

Your mouth felt numb, you were mumbling and humming in agreement, not even really caring about what he was saying anymore. As you pumped his hardening cock, Jim tilted his head at you. You looked at it for permission, after a painful minute, your mouth dripping with saliva, Jim nodded his head for you to continue on. 

Your tongue swirled over his tip, licking up every spec of his precum. A heavy sigh echoed throughout the room as Jim closed his eyes, you took him in your mouth quickly. His shoulders slouched, you were always able to relieve him of his aching body and tormented mind. 

“Such a cock hungry slut” Jim muttered, his hands slipped into your loose hair. 

You moaned around him, a wave of vibrations ran straight down to his base. Your hand massaged his balls gently, his blue eyes fluttered at the stimulation.  

“This is all you’re fucking for aye, worshipping my cock. Fucking waste of oxygen really… Dumb bitches always want dick” Jim mumbled, his lower lip stuck in between his teeth. As you nodded your head in agreement, you could feel your walls squeeze, the thought of jumping onto his cock fueled your energy. “Only good thing about you is how tight your fucking cunt is” he insulted, however it felt like the ultimate praise for you. 

Your head bobbed up and down his length, tongue poked all the way out, just the way that he liked it. Jim gulped down, he watched his tip poking against your cheeks as you hollowed them out. As his eyes rolled back, he grunted roughly. 

“You don’t even deserve to milk my cock with your pussy tonight” Jim spat, the grip in your hair tightened as he roughly tugged at the roots. But your eyes only widened at his comment. “Stupid fucking bitch” he swore harshly. 

You whined around him, when you attempted to pull your mouth off, he held you to his base. It quickly became hard to breath, you pushed against his thighs but his hold remained the same. 

“Oh, did you actually understand what I said?” Jim mocked, a sinister grin on his lips. 

As you nodded your head quickly, Jim chuckled and roughly patted your cheek as his hold finally loosened. 

“Bad, stupid girls don’t get to be fucked senselessly, I’ll fuck you when you figure out some common sense” Jim stated, his tone lacked joke. 

You mewled on his size, tears swelled your swollen eyes. But Jim ignored your muffled pleased and fucked your mouth forcefully. The volume of your gags seemed dangerous, however Jim was too built up to care at the moment. The sounds of his huffs, groans and curses implied how close to the edge he was. As he reached his climax, your nose is forced against his skin, cock pushed to the back of your throat, complete oxygen cut off. You cried out, but forced your mouth to remain open as the warm salty substance shot down your throat. The pats of reassurance to your cheek left a mark.

“Good fucking bitch” Jim praised as he let go of you, you fell onto your ass, gasping out, eyes swollen red. “You’ll continue to suck my cock until you know how to fucking stay in line aye? No touching yourself, no humping my thigh, nothing. Stupid girls don’t get to feel good” Jim made known, zero remorse on his look. 

You heaved out, tears slipped down your cheeks, your throat ached as you tried to swallow down the salty taste. With a smug smirk, Jim tucked himself back into his pants. Jim held out his hand which you reluctantly took. As you’re yanked onto your feet, he crashed his lips onto yours, his arms caged your body in.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Declaration of Independence || LS2

Pairing: ex!Lando Norris x Piastri!Reader, Logan Sargeant x Piastri!Reader, Lando Norris x Carlos Sainz Jr Summary: When you find your boyfriend in the arms of his ex-team mate you realise all the rumours were true. With nothing keeping you in Monaco you head to your twin brother’s place in London before planning to return home to Australia. Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, sexual themes, angst, hurt/comfort, alcohol WC: 8k

The phone rang for so long you thought it was going to go to voicemail but your younger brother must have caught it on the last ring. He could hardly talk as he panted from whatever exercise his personal trainer was putting him through and you stiffened your trembling lip, trying to sound as normal as possible.

“Jacky?”

You could almost see his forehead crumpling in confusion as the seconds ticked by before he answered. “What's wrong?”

“Shit,” you whispered as his protective tone triggered fresh tears and you heard him excuse himself from the gym citing ‘something’s wrong with my sister’. If only he knew how true that was. “I, um, need a favour.”

“Of course, whatever you need,” he answered instantly as a door banged shut at his end of the line. 

Overhead you heard the last call for the flight out of Nice you had bought a last minute ticket for and you shoved your phone between your ear and shoulder so you could fish your passport and boarding pass from your handbag. “Can I crash on your couch for a few days? Just until I can organise a flight home?”

“Home…what do you mean home?” Oscar asked, a moment before the request for a facetime popped up. His red and sweaty face filled your screen and you were sure yours looked similar from all the crying you had done on the drive from Monaco. “Are you at the airport? Where’s Lando?”

You shook your head as you tried to think of the words but they failed to emerge as you walked through the bridge to the plane that was waiting for you. “I…can I stay? Please.”

Worry filled his face but he nodded. Of course you could stay with him, you never had to ask, you were family. “I have a meeting with Zac soon but send me your flight number and I’ll send someone to pick you up.”

“You don’t have to do that. I can get a taxi.”

“No way. If it wasn’t Zac I promise I would be there, sis.”

“I know,” you sniffled, seeing you were at the plane door. “I’ve gotta go but thank you.”

“I’ll see you in a few hours,” Oscar said softly, pity in his eyes. “Love you.”

“You too, Jacky.”

At first glance you thought maybe Oscar had forgotten to organise a ride for you. Dozens of suited chauffeurs held little signs up with names but none of them were yours and you started to make your way in the other direction only to find a familiar face.

“Hey,” Logan greeted with a smile, tugging the cord of your hoodie you were hiding under. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to pick up a suit and a whiteboard.”

You stepped into his open arms with a small chuckle that lacked its usual energy. “I suppose I can forgive you. I’m sorry you were roped into this. Isn’t this way below your pay grade?”

“Wait, I could get paid for this?”

You stepped back with a laugh and patted your pockets. “I only have a couple of euros on me, so you are out of luck there.”

He started to laugh before looking around you and saw you had no luggage with you. “I thought you were coming to stay with Oscar?”

“I, um, left in a hurry,” you said as your chest tightened again and you looked at the floor. The thought of returning to the bedroom and packing a bag had your stomach turning. “I’ll get some clothes later today.”

You could still see them, their bodies writhing between the sheets you had slept in only hours earlier. You had been hurt, finding Lando in the arms of another, but the real shock had been when he pulled away at your gasp and you saw Carlos’ dark head of hair on your pillow. The man you had welcomed as a friend into your home, the man you had been on double dates with countless times, was fucking your boyfriend - or being fucked by - you couldn’t quite tell from where you stood frozen in the doorway.

“Let’s get you out of here,” Logan said quietly, tucking you into his side as he saw your waterline begin to fill in the silence. The tears slowly leaked down your cheeks as he guided you out of the terminal and to his car, belting you in when you couldn’t move for fear you would fall apart. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I can’t,” you admitted as you shook your head and pulled your hoodie back now that you were behind tinted glass. You had learned quickly just how many people followed and photographed F1 drivers and didn’t want to find yourself on the gossip pages again just yet, or ever.

He sighed but gave you a nod before turning the engine on. “Well, when you are ready, I’m here.”

“No, Lo, I can’t tell anyone, ever. I signed an NDA.”

“Seriously?” He put the car back in neutral and pulled the handbrake as he swivelled in his chair to face you as you confirmed it with a short nod. “What the fuck. Does Oscar know?”

“Not yet. It’s…complicated.”

Logan bit his lip as he fought the urge to ask more questions but he had known you long enough to know you wouldn’t be pressed on a matter. You were blunt that way, just like your brother - so he pushed the matter from his mind and started the journey to the city where Oscar shared an apartment with Lily. 

“If it gets cramped, you can always hang out at my place. I won’t be there much in the day and I know Lily is studying for her exams at the moment. Oscar’s been whining that he hardly sees her face; it's always buried in a textbook.”

“It’s only for a few days, until I can find a flight home,” you said with a shrug. You didn’t exactly want to return to Australia but there weren’t any other immediate plans that came to mind. Oscar worked with Lando, so hanging out with him in the garage like you used to gave you as much excitement as getting your fingernails ripped off.

Logan’s lips turned down at the news as he pulled up to the modern apartment block Oscar had moved into when he settled in the city. “Have my address, just in case - or you can call and I’ll pick you up.”

You grabbed your phone from your handbag and sighed when you found the battery dead. “Shit.”

A click had you look up as Logan grabbed your hand and you wriggled at the ticklish feel of his pen inking your skin. “Problem solved,” he smiled as he clicked the pen shut.

“Old school,” you teased as you twisted your hand to read the address in a suburb not too far from Oscar’s. “Thank you, Lo.”

His eyes softened as you leaned across the console and kissed his cheek before getting out of the car. “Anytime. Seriously, I’m here if you need anything.”

“I know.” You walked around to his window that he had wound down and rested your hands on the trim. “I’m glad Jacky has a friend like you.”

“I didn’t do this for him. Technically you were my friend first.”

You smiled at the memory, how Oscar had called you a traitor for hanging out with his ‘enemy’ back in F3 only for the two to end up becoming close friends after their fight for the championship. “Friends huh? I hope you didn’t kiss him too,” you joked before the image resurfaced of Lando and Carlos kissing in your bed and you pushed away from the car, missing the way his eyes lingered on your lips. “Uh, I should go. Thanks again, Logan.”

You berated yourself the entire way to the one bedroom apartment on the top floor. It was a silly joke. You shouldn’t have even brought up the kiss, it wasn’t something you had really thought about in the last two years - when you were happy with Lando. It had just been a summer thing that happened after he moved to F2 but nothing had come of it.

If you were honest with yourself you would admit you ran away. You had caught feelings for Oscar’s friend and ran the moment you realised it. Incidentally, it led you straight to Lando. And look how that turned out.

“Hey, you’re here! Sorry, I just need to run to the library but make yourself at home!” Lily greeted in a rush as she opened the door, tangling her arms in her coat as she tried to hug you at the same time. “Oscar shouldn’t be too far away. He’s picking up Thai for dinner too, so text him what you want. See you soon.”

Your goodbye drifted down the stairs with Lily and you closed the door to see the kitchen table was strewn with textbooks and it overflowed into the living room. You could hardly see the coffee table under the stack of books for her Masters but you moved some that were on the couch aside and settled in with a sigh.

Lando rushed off the bed, pulling the sheet loosely around his body but it bared Carlos completely and you stepped back at the fast approach. You couldn’t stop staring, a thousand questions running through your mind but there was only one that seemed to be repeating. 

“Why?” You should have known at that point how little the physical relationship had meant to you because it wasn’t the fact he had cheated on you that hurt the most. It was the fact he never told you the truth - you were meant to be friends first and foremost - he could have come out to you and you would have accepted him as he was.  “Why didn’t you tell me you were gay?”

Lando’s hands entwined with the sheets, nervously twisting in the material as he hung his head. “No one is allowed to know.”

Your eyes darted to Carlos as he pulled his boxers up and stepped up to Lando’s side, a large hand low on his back, supportingly. “No one can know. Do you understand?”

“No, I don’t understand. I don’t understand what the fuck is happening!” Your breaths came too quick, the room starting to sway until Lando caught you and guided you out of the room to the couch. His voice murmured apologies quietly with each step but it felt like you were listening from beneath the surface of turbulent waters.

“-both our careers.”

You blinked twice as the sound began to clear and you focused on Lando’s lips still swollen from Carlos’ kisses. “If anyone finds out then they will void our contracts.”

“So you were just using me? And Isabella?”

Carlos looked away at the mention of his ex-girlfriend and you wondered if she had been through this very same situation, or if she were blissfully unaware after their breakup. Had she been sat in front of the two of them, Carlos sitting closer and Lando the one on the other single seater couch observing quietly.

“No, fuck, no, it wasn’t like that,” Lando assured as he squeezed your hand. “I love you.”

You saw the hesitancy in his eyes that were frightened and sad, and everything else all at once. “But…you love him too.” You could do the maths and remembered the rumours that had been swirling since he joined McLaren. He had loved Carlos before he ever even met you. “I wish you told me, before I loved you too. I’m, uh, I’m just going to go now.”

“Wait, you can’t go,” Lando panicked as he gripped your hand tighter. “No one can find out.”

“I won’t tell anyone, Lan, it’s not my place, but you could have trusted me. I would have been happy for you,” you whispered as you wiped your eyes, “but now I’m just hurt and embarrassed.”

You started to pull away from Lando’s hands but he sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging. Carlos shifted forward, ready to reach for Lando before your hard eyes cut to him and he froze. “I’m sorry,” Lando murmured reluctantly. “I know you wouldn’t say anything, and I know I’m an asshole to ask, but…”

You swallowed as you waited for the next punch to come but Lando shook his head as if it physically hurt to speak. 

“We need you to sign some papers,” Carlos finished for him. “A non-disclosure agreement.”

A bitter laugh choked from your lungs. “You guys really had this all planned out didn’t you. And if I say no?” True panic widened Lando’s eyes and his chest filled with a shaky intake of air, making you feel guilty for even asking. With a resigned sigh you dropped your head in your hands and muttered, “I’ll sign whatever you need, then I’m gone.”

“You don’t have to go.”

“What do you want from me, Lan?” you asked, tugging your hair in exasperation. “What do you want me to do? Join your harem? Be your housekeeper? What!”

“I…I just don’t want to be alone again,” he whispered, a look of longing cast back to Carlos who flinched. 

You stood up, watching him shrink back as you rose over him. “I’m not going to be your bed warmer because the person you actually want isn’t available full time. Now hurry up and get me the papers to sign while I pack.” You started to make your way to the bedroom before changing your mind and going to the home office where the computer and printer was along with Lando’s sim racer. “Actually, I’ll just start completely afresh, you can donate everything. Or bin it, I don’t really care.”

Lies. Lies. Lies. You did care. You were just too stubborn to let it show.

Dropping into the office chair, you opened your phone while you waited for the NDA knowing it wouldn’t be long since they were already prepared - like they had run through the scenario before. Tiktok seemed like a good way to waste some time until the second video was a CarLando edit and you nearly broke the screen as you slammed the phone down on the desk. 

“You ok?” Lando asked as he popped his head in the room at the bang.

Spinning away from his sad blue eyes you dropped your head on the desk with a thud. “Don’t ever ask me that stupid question again.” He started to leave the room but he stopped at the choked sound that came from your throat. “You know, I would have been an ally - if you had just told me.”

“An ally?” he echoed as Carlos joined him in the doorway. 

“But now…”

“You are an enemy?” Carlos asked, his tongue running across his teeth until Lando elbowed him. 

“No, not an enemy, don’t put words in my mouth. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you like losing your jobs, I just can’t be happy for you either - not at my own expense.”

A bounce jolted you awake and your hand lashed out, slapping your brother’s arm where he had flopped down on the couch beside you. “Asshat.”

Oscar grinned but it faded quickly as he turned serious and took in your appearance - just what you needed with an already damaged self-esteem. “You okay?”

“Been better.”

“Want to send him a bag of dicks?”

“He’d probably like that,” you said with a snort before shaking your head. “No, I honestly just need something to take my mind off him.”

Oscar smiled sadly. “I would offer to go out tonight but Kim would probably kill me if I missed training in the morning, or god forbid the flight. How about we go and get absolutely trashed on Sunday after the race? You are still coming, right?”

You had debated avoiding the race entirely but when Oscar did the worst pair of sad puppy eyes you held your hand out and shook on it. “Deal. Now what’s for dinner?”

“I got a bit of everything since you didn’t text me what you wanted.”

“Phone’s dead, can I use your charger?”

“Yeah, it’s next to the bed,” he said as he jutted his head to the bedroom before pulling himself up with a groan and complaining about his ageing body.

“Shut up, I’m older than you are.”

“You were only born eight minutes before me,” Oscar complained as he led the way to the breakfast bar - the only space large enough to seat three people for dinner.

“As someone whose races come down to one thousandth of a second I think you of all people would understand eight minutes is quite substantial.”

“She’s got a point,” Lily said with a giggle as she set the plates. 

“No she doesn’t, whose side are you on?”

“Oh, Jacky-boy, it was the first race of your life and I won. Lah-hoo-zah-her.”

Something warm and wet hit your face and you narrowed your eyes at Oscar as he picked up another string of pad thai. “Say that again?”

Lily sighed as your lips parted and you matched his smirk, knowing it was going to cause carnage but at least it was familiar territory and a good distraction. “Loser.”

Lily and Oscar had gone to bed hours ago but you couldn’t sleep. The sound of the city was louder than what you were used to and the couch wasn’t as comfortable when you weren’t completely exhausted. 

Tossing the blanket back, you went to the bathroom and grimaced at your reflection. Dark circles hung under your puffy eyes and you were grateful that you had done some shopping after dinner. After making yourself a little more decent with a layer of makeup and some warm clothes you decided to take a walk to clear your head.

The streets only grew busier the further you walked from the nice neighbourhood and you found yourself in front of a pub that was overflowing with people despite it being so early in the week. You really shouldn’t have listened to the little voice in your head but you couldn’t argue that it had been one hell of a day so you agreed to treat yourself and stepped inside. 

Logan woke to a loud knock at his door and rubbed his eyes until the blurry clock beside his bed came into focus. Stumbling from the bed with his phone in hand, he padded his way downstairs and wondered who could be showing up at 2am until he saw you swaying in the peephole. Ripping the door open he didn’t realise you were using it to balance and caught you as you fell into him.

“Hey handsome,” you slurred with a grin as you checked out his shirtless body, feeling the hard muscles across his torso, before turning to wave back to the cabbie parked on his driveway. “Told you he was real!”

“Go inside, sweetheart, I’ll be back in a minute.” Logan settled you back on your feet and kissed your forehead before stepping out of his townhouse, sauntering his way to the black cab who still had his window down waiting. 

“Are you her brother?”

“No, Oscar’s a friend, so is she,” Logan assured the driver as he held out his iPhone to pay the fare. “Where did you pick her up from?”

“The Lion’s Head. She kept asking me to take her to her brother’s flat but had no phone or address. Found this one written on her hand though, lucky for her.”

“Yeah, lucky,” he sighed before patting the door panel and stepping. “Thanks for getting her here safely, you have a good night.”

By the time Logan had locked the door again you were passed out on his couch, your head hanging at an odd angle that couldn’t be comfortable. Scooping you up into his arms, he carried you up to his room, muttering under his breath as he walked, “What the fuck did you do, Lando?”

You woke up in a peaceful haze with a warm arm curled around your waist and soft snores on your neck. You didn’t open your eyes, not wanting to take away from this moment as your mind found itself back in your body and not in the nightmare you had been trapped in. 

“I had the worst dream, baby,” you whispered as you snuggled into the warmth of his chest against your back and felt him wake with a yawn.

“Y/N?”

You froze at the voice in your ear, your eyes being blinded by the morning light as they flew open. “Logan,” you squeaked as you shot upright and twisted to see him on his pillow, the sunlight making him look like a golden greek god. “What the..?”

Your eyes drifted down his bare chest before you caught yourself and fixed them on his blue eyes instead, the shade thankfully far brighter than the pair that had haunted your dreams. “Um, Logan, you’re naked…” you lifted the sheet you had wrapped yourself in and exhaled in relief, “and I am not. Okay. That’s good, I guess.”

“I’m not naked,” Logan clarified as he held his hands up. “You showed up last night really wasted and crashed on my couch.”

You looked around the light modern room with a quirked eyebrow. “This isn’t the couch.”

“Thank you for pointing out the obvious,” he said as he dropped his hands and laced his fingers over his abs and fiddled nervously, drawing your attention back to them before you could stop yourself. “You didn’t look comfortable so I carried you to bed but you woke up crying and…”

Your chest tightened as he trailed off and looked out the window to his small backyard. “And what, Logan?”

“You said you didn’t want to be alone, so I stayed alright? Nothing happened, okay, I just…I couldn’t leave you like that.” He bit his lip as he turned to see your reaction, wondering if he had overstepped without meaning to, but you were already launching yourself across the bed and into his chest. 

“Thank you, Lo,” you whispered against his skin as you buried your head in his neck while his arms found their way around you. 

“Don’t thank me just yet,” he mumbled. “I had to call Osc to let him know where you were.”

“Ugh,” you huffed as you pulled away from him and looked for your phone before remembering it was still charging in Oscar’s bedroom. Your eyes landed on the bedside drawers and found your cash, rings, watch and half a dozen pretzels but it was the clock that blinked angrily at you. “Shit, I’m going to miss the plane!” You scrambled to get out of bed.

“Relax. It’s all sorted,” Logan said with a laugh as he helped untangle your legs from the sheets. “You’re flying with me this afternoon.”

You froze as you found your bodies close and you felt the ghost of his touch where he had held you tenderly and let you fall asleep in his arms. “Logan…”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispered as he closed his eyes and shook his head, but he didn’t move away. 

“Like what?”

“Like you used to.”

‘Fuck, okay I deserved that,’ you thought as he pulled away and walked into his wardrobe. He stepped out a moment later in a pair of grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips, but his chest remained bare like he was purposefully trying to taunt you with the sight. Flopping back into the pillows, you pulled his one over your face and silently screamed as you assaulted your younger self for the decisions you had made. 

“Want waffles?” 

You refrained from smothering yourself completely and peeked over the top of the pillow that was saturated in his scent. “Store bought or homemade?”

The incredulous look he gave you had you tossing the pillow aside and rising from the bed. You didn’t know how he did it but Logan made the best waffles and despite being a good cook yourself, you could never replicate it. 

Strolling down the hall with him, you looked across and waved a hand over his body. “So do you own a shirt in this mansion?”

He smirked and shook his head. “Nope, not a single one.”

“If you take me shopping after breakfast I promise to buy you one.”

He pulled a stool out at the kitchen island and pointed you towards it while he went to the pantry and gathered the ingredients. “Didn’t you just go shopping yesterday?”

“That was so yesterday, Lolo,” you drawled as his lips curled up and his chest bounced with a laugh. “I only got some warm clothes because London can’t seem to make up its mind whether it's in a heat wave or a storm. I can’t wear this in Singapore.”

“You’ll absolutely cook,” he agreed. “The humidity is meant to be insane.”

“It is. We usually stopover there on the way home.”

You watched Logan mix all the ingredients and heat up the waffle iron before he put the first batch in and leant against the counter opposite you, resting his elbows on the bench and chin on his hands. “Where are you going to hang out in Singapore?”

You knew he didn’t mean the tourist attractions and shrugged, really not wanting to think about that just yet. “Jacky wants me there so I’m going, but beyond that I don’t know. Lando’s taking care of the ‘announcement’ but I don’t know when that will be posted.”

“I didn’t realise he was such an asshole.”

You opened your mouth but you weren’t sure if you were going to condemn him or defend him so you closed it again.

You had spent hours combing over your relationship with Lando when you couldn’t sleep and realised you weren’t actually as angry about the breakup as you felt you should have been. Maybe that was a sign it was never really that serious, or that the attraction to Lando was simple in that he was good looking and you had built a strong friendship with him. Maybe that was all there was and you misread it all. 

He had still used you, and that hurt like hell. That was real.

“You’re always welcome at my garage, no orange though.”

Your lips twitched as you shook your head in amusement. “Papaya, but thanks, I might take you up on that - if you can save my waffle from burning.”

“Shit!” Logan nearly burnt himself rushing to get the waffle out but with a hefty drenching in maple syrup you could hardly taste the extra crispy parts.

y/npiastri

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SINGAPORE

Your phone started to vibrate with notifications as soon as you turned it on after touching down at Changi Airport and you could feel a headache beginning to grow until it felt the size of a certain British race driver. One that wasn’t Lewis or George.

Though you were expecting to see him after reading through the litany of text messages you had missed, it was still a shock to find Lando in the airport terminal.

“Hey man, thanks for giving her a lift,” Lando said with a stiff nod to Logan as he draped an arm over your shoulder and whispered, “I didn’t want to do this, I’m sorry.”

All around, you could see fans taking photos and found Lando’s forced smile waiting for you to respond. Your eyes darted to Logan but he wasn’t helping matters with the glare he was sending Lando so you gritted your teeth and wrapped your free arm around Lando’s waist. 

“I’m not doing this again in Japan,” you whispered back as you waved to a few of the fans. “I don’t care what your PR team says. I’m done.”

You didn’t know where Lando slept, and didn’t care enough to ask as you closed the hotel door in his face. It was one thing to pretend to still be in a relationship in public but it didn’t extend beyond that. He was already asking too much of you.

The peace and quiet didn’t last very long before a persistent knock drummed on your door. “I know you’re in there,” Oscar called out. “Open up before I tell everyone about Bobo-”

You were not amused as you unlocked the door and found the hall empty except for him and the bag of food he held. “Keep my teddy’s name out of your mouth,” you growled as you swiped the bag from him. “Lau Pa Sat?”

“Of course,” he shrugged nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t travelled across the city to go to your favourite hawker stand.

“Thank you. I guess you can come in.”

He chuckled as you made space in the doorway and closed the door behind him. His laugh soon died and he quirked an eyebrow as he passed the trash can and saw the McLaren merch that you had found in the wardrobe. “I’ll try not to be too offended.”

“You’ll get over it.” You took a seat on the couch and opened the containers, spreading the range of dishes across the coffee table as the mouthwatering scent filled the room. “Want some?”

“Race diet,” he reminded you with a shake of his head and a longing look at the food.

“Good, I don’t share well.”

“At least you can have the leftovers for breakfast tomorrow.”

You already had a mouthful of chicken rice and nearly choked on it before swallowing. “Leftovers? Yeah, right. I’m not on a race diet, this isn’t lasting the night.”

Dropping into the seat beside you, Oscar grabbed the tv remote and went straight to the movie channels. After finally deciding on the new Spiderman he settled into the cushions, ignoring the knock on the door, muttering, “Don’t answer him.”

From Logan: open up, I can smell food.

“It’s not Lando,” you said as you tossed the phone to Oscar who went and opened the door before taking his seat again.

“Expecting anyone else?” Logan asked as he saw all the food spread out.

“She’s eating her feelings,” Oscar stated, ducking on reflex as he expected to get a punch on the arm. There was a satisfied smirk on your face when his face disappeared under a well aimed pillow and you blew a kiss to Logan as a thank you.

“Do you want some?” you offered the American a dumpling with your chopsticks.

He leaned closer and looked at the tasty morsel inquisitively. “What’s in it?”

“Don’t ask, mate.” Oscar tucked the pillow behind his head and turned the volume up. “How’d you know I was here?”

“I didn’t come to see you,” Logan said as he dropped a package on your lap before he took a bite of the dumpling, the liquid inside exploding in a mess down your top. “Fuck, sorry.” He reached for the napkins on the table but his shaking hand knocked your drink over and Oscar sat back watching the chaos with a nostalgic feeling as Logan swore again. “Fuck.”

It reminded Oscar of being Logan’s teammate at Prema, back when things were simpler and the three of you would always hang out. Logan was always clumsy around you and it looked like it was something he would never grow out of.

“Is this your present?” you asked as you finally stopped laughing at Logan and picked up the package. “Why aren’t you wearing it? It was a gift.”

Oscar’s interest was piqued and he swiped it from your hands. You had promised to buy Logan a shirt, you didn’t say it was going to be a fashionable one. Opening the bag, Oscar pulled the green shirt out and held it up to read the front before turning it around, cackling loudly.

Got a problem with me? Talk to Mike Krack.

“I am not wearing that,” Logan laughed as Oscar balled it up and tossed it at his head.

“If you won’t, I will,” you dared as you went to reach for it.

“No way,” Logan teased, pulling it out of your reach as you tried to clamber over him to get it. “It's my gift and I’m keeping it.”

“Careful not to hurt him again, sis,” Oscar warned jokingly.

Logan winced at the reminder of the one time your leg had slipped in a similar situation and your knee had met a certain body part he was quite attached to.

“That was an accident!” you huffed as you sat back in your seat and grabbed a dish of Singapore noodles. “Don’t you have a girlfriend to call before her exam?”

Oscar checked his phone and saw the time and jumped up from the couch. “Shit! See you two in the morning.”

“Wish her luck from me, not that she needs it,” you called out as the door closed in his wake. It hadn’t even clicked shut and you had tossed the remote onto Logan’s lap. “Right, find a decent movie and not a bloody cartoon.”

“Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?” 

Logan laughed as you narrowed your eyes at him before continuing scrolling down the title list. “Fine, what about the new Jennifer Lawrence one?”

With a full stomach, you put the lids back on the containers and made yourself comfortable on the couch, laying your head on Logan’s lap and using his thigh as a pillow. Just like old times, you smiled as his palm started to brush over your hair softly.

You hadn’t read the synopsis when you agreed to the choice and you started to regret it. The entire plot was centred around a woman who was afraid of catching feelings and so she ran at the first sight of them. You grew uncomfortable as the movie played and neither of you laughed much - you were too busy wishing you didn’t see the similarities of when you did the same to Logan. And Logan, well he had a frown etched deep into his forehead.

“You’re thinking so loud that I’m getting a headache,” you said as you rolled onto your back and looked up at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Just thinking about the race. All the races, and crashes. I keep fucking up.” 

You waited for him to continue but he was staring at the tv without really seeing what was there so you paused it. “Mistakes happen. James seems like a good principle - he should have told you this.”

“He is, but I want to be better. I push harder to prove I can but then I crash out, but if I hold back then I come last. I just don’t know how to find the balance. I feel like a failure.” He looked away, ashamed.

You sat up and cradled his cheek in your hand, guiding his face back so you could see his eyes. “You’re not a failure, Lo. You’re a rookie, it’s about learning and getting experience.”

“Oscar’s a rookie too.”

“Yeah, but he had a year of testing to get used to the car. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” You decided at that moment that you were going to take up his offer. “And to make sure you remember it, I’ll be in your garage tomorrow. I might even bring a picket sign so you can see me from the track.”

“You would too,” he chuckled before sighing and releasing the tension in his shoulders. “It's completely selfish of me, but I missed hanging out like this.”

“Me too, Lo.”

“Are you sure you want to go home?”

“No,” you scoffed. “But what else can I do? I only left so Jacky wasn’t on his own but he has Lily now. I have no place to live and everything I owned is probably already in the Monaco landfill.”

“You could stay with me,” he offered before quickly adding, “I have a guest room.”

You couldn’t quite ignore the feeling of disappointment that set in your gut at the thought of being his roommate. “You’re too nice but you’ll want your privacy, it would be awkward if you brought a girlfriend home.” That thought unsettled you even more.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” he said a little sadly. “I have about the same success with dating as I do scoring points.”

“It’s only a matter of time,” you stated confidently. “I believe in you.”

You were hardly spotted with Lando all weekend but that wasn’t abnormal since his team kept him busy with meet and greets. Unfortunately, arriving with Logan at the airport and then at the paddock each day had caused a few whispers to spread. Rumours of the breakup were popping up on the Wag blogs and the term homie hopper was being thrown around too.

Girl has gone and signed the Declaration of Independence. Y/N belongs to America now. The tweet made you giggle a little bit as you sat in Logan’s garage eating a slice of the cake you had baked the crew. You had kept them supplied with fresh baking all weekend after finding out Logan’s hotel suite had a fully stocked kitchen and they had quickly welcomed you after that.

The busy garage fell silent, the wheel guns shutting off as the mechanics put them down to watch the pair of McLaren men walking in from the pit lane. One smiled at the Williams shirt you wore, the other looked at Logan with a new interest.

“Kim thought he smelt your baking,” Oscar said as he spotted the cake before giving you a hug. “I get not being in papaya but this is just traitorous.”

“I don’t know, I quite like it. I was even propositioned - head baker sounds good to me. Especially since I need a new job.”

Lando’s smile dropped. “Wait, what?”

You could see the people around pretending to be busy but they collectively leaned closer. They were not ignorant to the rumours in the paddock.

“Quadrant doesn’t need me. I know I was only on the payroll because of you,” you said quietly. “I emailed Max my resignation when I got to Nice, I thought he would have told you.”

“Well I’m CEO and, as CEO, I’m not accepting it.”

“Don’t be a dick, mate,” Oscar interjected, placing a hand on Lando’s chest and giving him a little push back away from you.

“I didn’t sign away my basic fucking rights so if you want to piss away your money paying me for nothing then fine.”

A warm body pressed up beside you and you didn’t have to look to know it was Logan, before his accent confirmed it. “I think you should go back to your garage, now.”

Oscar sent Logan a grateful nod and headed towards the floodlights with a firm hand on Lando’s shoulder.

“Drive safe,” you called out, both of their heads turning back at your voice but you were only looking at one of them.

“Of course,” Oscar nodded seriously. “Don’t forget, we’re going out tonight.”

“How could I forget? Free booze - It’s the only reason I came.” You hooked your arm into Logan’s and peeked up at his stoic features, his eyes still staring daggers at Lando. “You’re coming too, right?”

“Sure,” he replied with a smirk. “Someone’s got to make sure you get tucked into bed…again.”

You choked on a laugh as his words had the desired effect and Oscar shook his head as his teammate swept from the room. “If that wasn't about my sister I would hi-five you,” he said with a smile in his tone. “Good luck out there.”

“You too.”

“That was naughty,” you teased as work resided in the garage.

The mechanics were busy preparing the car for the race when your phone vibrated in your pocket and Logan’s attention was taken by his engineer. Ducking away from the distracting noise, you answered the call and pressed a finger into your ear so you could hear.

“It’s, uh, me, Lando.”

“I know, I do have your number.”

“Oh, I thought you might have deleted it,” he cleared his throat and from the quiet at his end you knew he was hidden in his driver room. “I just wanted to let you know I’m posting the announcement before the race. And…I hope Logan makes you happy. Truly.”

“It’s not what you think, despite what he said before. He doesn’t even think of me that way.”

“I’m not sure who you’re trying to convince,” Lando said before sighing. “I know sorry doesn’t begin to cover it but for what it’s worth, I really am sorry. Anyway, I should go.”

You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat at the genuine apology, but you weren’t ready to say what he was wanting to hear, you weren’t ready to forgive him. “Drive safe, Lando.”

His exhale of relief drifted through the phone. “Thank you.”

landonorris

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“Woah, slow down, sweetheart.” The glass was taken from your hand and Logan took a drink of it himself as he settled into the booth beside you. “That’s strong.”

“Fastest way to get drunk, and that’s exactly what I am aiming for.”

“Just let her get it out of her system,” Oscar suggested after breaking away from a conversation with Felipe, the Aston Martin reserve driver he had befriended. “Trust me, she’ll get trashed, blow off some steam and be over him tomorrow.”

“I am over him,” you stated as you took your drink back and jutted your chin to the tv screens replaying the podium celebration hours ago. “I just can’t seem to get away from them.”

Logan frowned as he followed your gaze and saw Carlos and Lando spraying each other with champagne before hugging tightly. “Them?”

Your eyes widened as you realised what you said and you shuffled closer to him. With a quick scan over the others, you found they weren’t paying any attention so you cupped your hand around Logan’s ear for some privacy. “Please forget I said that and never repeat it, please, you have to promise me.”

He chewed his bottom lip in contemplation before tipping his head down to yours and you felt his warmth breath across your cheek. “The NDA was about this, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I don’t want you getting into trouble, and I don’t give a shit what those two do in their own time - he’s still an asshole for cheating on you. You deserve better than that.”

You looked down at your glass, tracing your finger around the salted rim. “You don’t think it’s my fault?”

“What?” he laughed before realising you were serious. “How would it be your fault?”

“I, I don’t know…” you lied.

“You think you turned him gay.” Logan was more astute than anyone gave him credit for, or maybe he just knew you too well. Grabbing your chin, he guided your face back so he could meet your eyes. “Sweetheart, you know that’s not how it works.”

“I know,” you whispered. “He was only with me because he was lonely. And I think I was the same. Oscar had just moved in with Lily and I was alone for the first time in my life. I just keep wondering what would have happened if I answered your call that night.”

His hand dropped from where it had slowly shifted to cradle your cheek. “Why didn’t you?”

You screwed your eyes shut as you remembered the summer that had changed your future completely. You had tried to resist the growing feelings for Logan but after a week spent on his uncle’s superyacht you realised you were deep in it. It had frightened you - the fear of losing him as a friend - if it turned out to be a mistake. It wasn’t just your friendship at risk either, there was the one of Oscar and Logan to think about too.

It had been overwhelming, so when the holiday came to an end you went incommunicado.

That was also the summer where Oscar had quietly been in talks with McLaren and at one of those meetings you had accompanied him to, you met Lando. Friendly, handsome, and no attachment to Oscar at that point, he was the escape you needed.

“Because I realised I loved you and it scared me. It still does, but I’m done running.”

You didn’t know who moved first and the consequences of the actions were far from your mind as your lips met. The club could have been on fire but you wouldn’t have recognised the sound of the alarms as your racing heartbeat echoed in your head and your hands fisted his shirt to pull him closer. You moaned when you felt him deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips as his hand traced down your spine.

His kiss were exactly like you remembered them, pillow soft lips that yearned with a hunger you could match. And you did.

“Dude!” Oscar interrupted as he threw a coin at you. “I’m right here!”

You tossed the coin right back at him. “Look away then, little brother. You’re the one who said to blow off some steam.”

“Ugh, not what I meant,” he said as he finished his beer. “I’m calling it a night. You two…have fun or whatever.”

“Wait, you’re not mad?” you asked as he grabbed his jacket, Felipe deciding to join him instead of becoming a third wheel.

“I’m not your keeper, you’re an adult. God knows you two have been googly-eyed over each other since you met.”

“Was not googly-eyed!”

“Whatever you say.” Oscar laughed at you as he rose from the table and ruffled your hair before clapping Logan on the shoulder. “Take care of her, please.”

“Of course, always planned to.”

Oscar nodded with a final wave. “I know.”

—

The need to get drunk was replaced with another need entirely and it didn’t take long before Logan closed the tab and paid the bill before hailing a taxi. His hand had not left your body for one moment, either resting on the small of your back or holding your hand - like he was afraid if he let you go you would disappear again.

When you woke in the morning, those hands still held you close, his legs tangled between yours, his skin warm against yours. For a moment you found the home you had been searching for since you left Australia as a teenager wanting to carve out a piece of the world as her own. For a moment you were in heaven.

You didn’t know how quickly that feeling would disappear. You didn’t know that photos of you and Logan’s kiss were already going viral.

Whore, slut, gold digger.

“Ignore them, sweetheart,” Logan said as he took your phone and turned it off for the flight to Japan. “You and I know the truth, that’s all that matters.”

It was hard to imagine having the strength to ignore the accusations, especially when you couldn’t defend yourself without exposing Lando. He must have known that too as for a second time in a week you found yourself in an airport terminal and facing your ex.

“Hey.” You didn’t know what to do when he opened his arms for a hug but after a moment you stepped into his embrace. “Logan called.”

You turned to Logan, a look of confusion clear on your face as you waited for an explanation. “It’s his fans bullying you, and if he really wants you to be happy like he said then the least he can do is show them there’s no problem,” he said with a shrug.

“He’s right,” Lando said as he nudged you gently. “I wasn’t lying when I said I hope we could still be friends. If you’re not ready for that then I’ll respect it but I’m still here if you need and I won’t stop apologising.”

Your night with Logan had washed away at the residual hurt that had been left by Lando and you softened at his words. Wrapping your arms around his waist you took a deep breath and released it just as heavily. “I forgive you, Lan. And he does make me happy, he always has.”

He smiled knowingly as you stepped back and under Logan’s arm. “Good. I’m glad.”

You smiled up at Logan before turning it to Lando, feeling lighter than you had all week - maybe all your life. There was no sarcasm or edge when you told him wholeheartedly, “I hope you get your happiness too.”

[leclerc-s]

the blue - part ten

series masterlist // previous

LAS VEGAS 2023

ameliaholland posted new stories

ivy is adjusting well to the travel life well. pov: you've just had a rundown by lando norris on how charles is slowly losing his mental stability. don't worry! he's fine! still mentally stable but on his last limb polite cat oscaroo strikes again! photo from this morning's travels

tom holland okay, you guys can't be mad at me..

max verstappen thomas i swear to god- logan sargeant if this spider-bitch says harrison tagged along, we are not responsible for yuki. tom holland okay, well, i guess i'll die.

yuki tsunoda YOUR SISTER CRIED ON STAGED BECAUSE OF HIM! AND YOU JUST BROUGHT HIM ALONG??

sam holland i told him not too but he said, and i quote, "he's my best friend. i can't just not bring him." lando norris YOU COULD NOT BRING HIM?

george russell he's going to get killed.

charles leclerc we won't be responsible for yuki or max.

max verstappen i can take him

zendaya there is too much testosterone here

amelia holland OH I HAVE A SOLUTION!

amelia holland added 4 people

lily muni he why?

amelia holland you try saying anything against the zendaya alexandra saint mleux valid. very valid.

george russell how did you get my girlfriend's number?

carmen mundt someone was very drunk after her show in london that he forgot i was with him

pierre gasly you fucking idiot

kika gomes said the idiot to the other idiot

pierre gasly how am i an idiot?

esteban ocon you tried to "out spider-man" tom last week when you were drunk. charles leclerc and you almost ran into oncoming traffic. daniel ricciardo if it weren't for me you'd be dead.

lily muni he why were we added?

alex albon TOM INVITED HARRISON TO VEGAS!

kika gomes well that's stupid.

alexandra saint mleux your sister cried because of him?

tom holland you don't get it! he was sad and i can't say no to him! he's my best friend! i will get him to apologize to amelia.

amelia holland i'm not talking to him. i have nothing to talk to him about.

oscar piastri he's a dickhead. he's never going to apologize.

lando norris oscar jack piastri, cursing? that's a new one. someone call sky sports!

logan sargeant you're talking about the guy who grew up with mark webber. he's said worse. trust me.

oscar piastri shut up?

harry holland YOU INVITED THE SECOND STRING LOSER?

kika gomes fitting name. lily muni he it's what she called him in a song. i guess it stuck. zendaya he deserves it

harry holland thomas, we are having words.

sam holland and i'm calling paddy.

tuwaine oh shit just got real.

ameliaholland vegas, baby!

tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris, mclaren

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landonorris when will i get a post for myself? i'm the best friend?

↳ ameliaholland when you finally get a race win...

↳ landonorris i hate you

username amelia holland, certified oscar piastri simp

tomholland2013 can't believe you ditched us to hang out with oscar

↳ ameliaholland can't believe you invited apple.

↳ lilymhe she's right thomas. how could you.

↳ maxverstappen1 can't believe spider-man would betray us this way

↳ charles_leclerc traitor

↳ yukitsunoda0511 liar.

↳ tomholland2013 I GET IT!

↳ ameliaholland but do you?

↳ francesca.cgomes clearly he doesn't.

username what on earth is happening in the comments?

username i don't know but they're all upset with tom

username amelia instagram is all just pictures of oscar

↳ username she's in love! let's leave her alone!

↳ username oh don't get me wrong. i love it. it's adorable

amelia holland max invited us out before free practice tomorrow and after the opening ceremony

tom holland I'M GAME!

zendaya sounds like fun.

sam holland count me in!

tuwaine a chance to party with the max verstappen and daniel ricciardo, count me in!

harry holland i'm in

harrison osterfield i don't think your friends like me very much

amelia holland they don't but max said to invite you anyways. something about water under the troll?

amelia holland i think he meant water under the bridge?

amelia holland pierre also said something about second string loser buying the first round of drinks.

harrison osterfield alright. i'll go

amelia holland you can leave if you feel uncomfortable at any point

harrison osterfield okay

ABU DHABI 2023

ameliaholland in honor of the end of the 2023 season, i give you one final photo dump.

tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris, mclaren, tomholland2013

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oscarpiastri 🧡🧡

↳ ameliaholland 🧡🧡

username mama y papa!!

charles_leclerc this is charles leclerc erasure!

↳ alex_albon i agree this is erasure of the most important people in her life!

↳ ameliawinters as opposed to my boyfriend and brother?

↳ georgerussell63 of course!

username i need to find someone who looks at me the way oscar looks at amelia.

lilymhe not enough amelia content. 3/10.

↳ ameliaholland i'm sorry love, i'll do better next time.

yukitsunoda0511 0/10 no yuki content. every photo dump must include a picture of me.

↳ ameliaholland apologizes yuki. i'll include one next time.

harrisonosterfield where is the cat's seatbelt??

↳ oscarpiastri she said she didn't need one.

↳ harrisonosterfield you're being a very irresponsible father mr.piastri

↳ oscarpiastri i am simply listening to what my daughter wants mr.osterfield

↳ username talk about a friendship i never saw coming

username and to think we started the season with single oscar and we're ending it with oscar dating THE amelia holland!!

username ivy lives a better life than me.

username they're giving high school sweethearts.

username your honor, i love them

taglist: @six-call @1nt3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @skynel09 @arieltwvdtohamflash @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @woozartss @dear-fifi @tygecjjd @cataf1 @nothaqks @caipng @nataliambc @formulaal @lichterfee @prongsvault @kaa212 @anxxiousaries @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole @hobiismyhopeu @melissayalene @nikfigueiredo @bella-1 @nichmeddar @namgification @anniemae299 @octopussesarecool @jensonsonlybutton @ragioniera @anytimeanywherebitch-blog @trouble-sistar @hwalllllllelujah

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! in case you couldn't tell, i don't how to end stories, so this is my attempt at one. i definitely didn't procrastinate this because i didn't want to be finished with this story. not at all. but stick around and wait for the bonus chapters because this story isn't quite over yet.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[sitp-recs]

Part II: table for two

Following my list featuring the sea (now with a lil banner cause I’m getting in the reccing zone again baby!!!!), I thought I’d make this a series called “fic as a sensory delight” and continue the trend with good old Drarry domesticity walking hand in hand with some food porn appreciation. Who knew that Drarry living their best life while enjoying tasty treats could be so personal? These fics feel like a comfort meal when life gets too crazy and provide a delicious sensory experience. From cottagecore to road trips, found family, case fic, established relationship and even kinky delights - this list has a bit of everything and features food as a main character either bringing Drarry together, healing past traumas, helping them connect with their heritage or simply playing as a love language. I hope these fics bring you as much comfort, joy and healing as they brought me. Happy weekend!

🥘 Breakfast by @moonflower-rose (E, 3k)

Breakfast is Harry's favorite part of the day.

🥘 Market Saturdays by @sorrybutblog (M, 3k)

In which Harry is an accidental part-time cheesemonger, Draco is an organic farmer and they fall in love. Not an AU.

🥘 Salt and Sauce by onbeinganangel (T, 3k)

Sure, of course he knows how you take your tea. But does he know your chippy order?

🥘 Cupboard Love by @shealwaysreads (G, 4k)

Harry’s life, and love, in food.

🥘 Don't Bite the Hand That Feeds You by InnerLilith (E, 11k)

In which Harry takes Draco out for Eritrean food, and Draco has a severe obsession with Harry’s hands. Smut ensues.

🥘 Harry Potter and the Showstopper of Doom by @doubleappled (M, 11k)

In which Harry’s an amateur baker, Draco wants him to go on the Great British Bake-Off, Petunia never misses an episode, Sue is a witch, Paul Hollywood is Paul Hollywood, and everyone eats a lot — like a whole lot — of baked goods.

🥘 Poppiholla by @moonflower-rose (M, 13k)

Harry had accepted that he would pine silently for Malfoy forever, but one, humid summer might change that.

🥘 Connecting Lines, Connecting Crimes by @sleepstxtic (M, 15k)

“Hello, Harry,” Draco said. He was wearing a black turtleneck under a long grey overcoat, and he was already flushed with sweat. His hair was tied into a knot; it was longer than I remembered. He was older than I remembered. There were lines around his eyes, and I wondered if they were from laughing or frowning. “Hello,” I managed. “You must be with the British Ministry?’ He nodded. I thought I might faint.

🥘 Bridges by @cavendishbutterfly (E, 16k)

Harry and Draco are on a trip to Budapest to help with Kingsley's re-election, but that's the boring bit. More interesting: Harry Potter is changing his Tinder preferences to include men. Also interesting: Harry's spending more time with Draco Malfoy than he ever has, wandering around the city. And Harry doesn't hate it. The city's pretty gorgeous too.

🥘 Sourdough by @academicdisasterfic (M, 17k)

Draco writes romance novels and doesn't leave his apartment much. Harry bakes bread and sells it to Draco. Draco is quite weird. Harry might like that.

🥘 Preserving Lemons by @saintgarbanzo, @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (E, 17k)

Harry is cooking food he couldn't care less about; Draco is making art he couldn't care more about. A story about kebabs, miniskirts and the way preservation can transform a lemon.

🥘 Passion Cake by @icmezzo (T, 19k)

It’s all about desire. (Harry orders a magically enhanced cake from a chic London bakery, and from there it all goes to hell in a cake tin. Also, will someone please tell Harry what Passion Cake is?)

🥘 Knead by laughingd0g (E, 83k)

This is not a story about Harry renovating Grimmauld Place. This is a story about coffee shops and brewpubs, about Ginny and Luna on a farm with creatures, about magical Oregon, coastal road trips, flying, friendship, and Draco Malfoy's lean arms.

🥘 Soup-pocalypse and The Great Curry Cataclysm by SquadOfCats (E, 104k)

Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.

🥘 Make This Leap by @oflights (M, 118k)

Harry owns a struggling restaurant which is running out of money, and his Head Chef has just handed in notice. He's at a bit of a loss as to what to do until Narcissa Malfoy presents an obvious solution: bring in Draco Malfoy as Chef and part owner. Harry does.

[dreamsinarcadia]

Hypertension

Prompt: How can I not worry over the person I love the most?

In which Heung-min doesn’t know how not to hover after a visit to the doctor

pairing: sonny x wife!reader

warning: lots of silly grammatical errors that I just cannot find the energy to fix 🫶🏽

She found it near impossible not to love her husband when he was like this, fretting and almost pulling his hair out in worry - a little handsy, but only because he loved her far too much to let her go, to let her walk even five feet away from him.

It was impossible not to love him when he was all wide eyed and beaming bright enough to give the sun a challenge, warm and delightfully flushed (but again, because he loved her far too much to feel calm again).

In the hallway leading to their bedroom, Heung-min was practically skipping. He was also loud, more so than usual, his voice ricocheting off the walls and bouncing off the high ceiling. He was elated, practically demanding that their neighbours in the complex hear it as well, but this level of happiness at such a close proximity was borderline overwhelming.

Not overwhelming in a bad way, but a tidal wave of his affection, so she tried to move his hands from her waist as lightly as possible.

“Heung-min, you know that I can still walk, right?” she asked gently, trying so hard not to let a giggle break through her lips.

His hold on her waist remained firm as he walked behind to guide her in slow and purposeful steps. He hummed cheerfully and nodded in agreement. “I know.”

“Uh-huh, do you really?” she snorted, looking pointedly down at where the tips of his feet came into view between her own.

Playfully smacking his hands away to let them hover her hips instead, he couldn’t help but laugh as the ridiculousness of the situation slowly filtered into his head. “I know you can walk by yourself, but —”

“I’m pregnant, not terminally ill,” she reminded him with an arched brow.

Behind her, long limbs turned her own careful steps into a messy affair with him hot on her heels. The heat from his chest felt like she was pressed against a furnace, something that she never took for granted in the miserly weather of London. His palms, smooth and warm, slipped under the waistband of her pants to rub soothing circles into the flesh of her waist.

He was towering over her like a mother hen, encasing her in a protective shield to remind her that though she was more than capable on her own two feet, he was there to catch her at even the smallest hint of losing balance.

“Again, just pregnant, not terminally ill.”

Still, though Heung-min kept pace and somehow managed to inch even closer, as though he was trying to merge their bodies into one. “You know in some countries, they’re pretty much considered the same thing.”

She really had to stamp down the urge to roll her eyes. “Babe, we just saw the best doctor in London. I’m fine!”

Like words thrown at a brick wall.

Heung-min shrugged. “Hypertension.”

Having finally arrived at their bedroom, she plopped down on the bed and released a heavy sigh. Her husband knelt down in front of her, taking her hands into his own to press loving kisses into her palms.

For a moment, she remained quiet, having her fill of the closeness of his features. Her gaze walked over his skin, igniting a fire in the base of his spine, and she took her time. Then she leaned forward with a secret smile to press a quick kiss to the sunburn on the bridge of his nose. “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

He wiggled his brows.

“Pre-eclampsia.”

She had to cackle then, playfully shoving him away. “You’re so romantic.”

“It’s real!” He insisted, finally moving away to toss his wallet and keys onto his bedside table. “My love, it actually happens.”

Sensing that he was quickly losing his joviality, she gave him a gentle smile and walked over. “I know, but we have so much more time down the line to worry about that. I’m just six weeks in.”

Leaning up on her toes, her lips barely brushed his with the barest of touches, her hand running through his hair with purpose before pulling away altogether. “You don’t have to worry.”

Heung-min shoved his hands in his pockets as he leaned a shoulder on the doorway, admiring his wife and her body as though he could see beyond her clothes, beyond her skin. Every fibre of his being was utterly devoted to all of her, she could feel the tidal wave of devotion that flowed from his heart directly into her own, turning his arms into a safe haven for all her wayward worries and dreams.

“I know,” he said with a tilt of his head. “How can I not worry over the person I love the most?”

He reached out to take her hand and pull her up against him. His hands settled comfortably on either side of her waist and he took a moment to relish the feeling of the soft cotton of her shirt against his palms. They stayed like that for a few minutes before she was waddling out of the room with him pressed against her back like velcro, leading him into the empty room that had previously been saved as an office space.

It had a new, more wholesome purpose now.

Heung-min looked up at the ceiling and then his eyes moved down the walls and the doors before they finally landed on the floors, taking in the sleek oak. He bounced lightly on the balls of his feet. "Yeah, this is going to be a lot of work," he said. “Unless our baby is going to work in a corporate office the first day out of the hospital, we need to start planning out an actual nursery.”

“We’re going to have to decorate a nursery,” she hummed.

“…for a baby,” he mumbled into her hair thoughtfully. “Our baby.”

Oh.

It was happening.

Parenthood.

She twisted around to face him and found herself—not for the first time—overwhelmed by a heady mixture of giddy happiness and tender affection. That had been happening with a frequency as of late, but while her friends told her that she was still under the spell of being a newlywed, she suspected that it would always be the case when Heung-min was just so excited about the prospect of being a father. She reflexively tightened her grip on his hands, which drew his attention down to her. "We’re going to be parents," she told him.

He beamed down at her, lifting a hand to tuck some loose strands of her hair behind one of her ears and tipped his head to one side. "You’re going to be a mom.”

She smiled even wider and curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt so she could hold him that much closer to her. "And you’re going to be a dad.”

He chuckled and the sound reverberated through his chest and into hers and to the very tips of her toes. She closed her eyes and tried to just soak him in as one of his hands threaded through her hair to hold the back of her head. Then the bow of his mouth pressed to her forehead.

She pressed her face into the fabric of his shirt and let out a long breath when Heung-min folded his long arms around her. She could practically hear the sound of their child somewhere off and away from the house and she couldn't help but smile to herself. Change had never much agreed with her in the past, but after changing her mind, a change of heart, and finally changing her surname she didn't think she minded it so much. She had someone to lay roots down with and hang onto through the worst of anything.

Worth it, she thought to herself. Nothing had ever been so worth it.

[leclercss]

Tainted Love, Part 9 (Charles Leclerc ft Lewis Hamilton)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Masterlist

plot: in an attempt to fix your marriage, you've reluctantly agreed into being in an open relationship with your husband. so far, it's only been your husband that has taken advantage of your recent arrangement until one night out you meet a man who makes you begin to question your marriage.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader, lewis hamilton x fem!reader

warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating and some swearing

authors note: i decided to split the last part into two, you’re welcome xx

word count: 4.3k

taglist: @ironmaiden1313, @ru-kru, @buendiabebeta, @flwr-quicksilver, @ravioli19, @julesandro, @hornedravenclaws, @thatobsessedreader @pinkangelavenue, @queenofshinigamis, @notleclerc, @paullinne, @bisexualbith, @tempo-rary-fix, @bbygrlllllll, @teenagedreams-cl, @lunamelona, @leclerc16s, @palomaxaxaxa

You find yourself standing outside of the apartment that you share with Lewis. It's funny that in just a matter of a week, it's gone from being your home to a place that you've come to dread. How can you call this place home when the people who live there feel like strangers to one other?

It's been a funny couple of days for you. You've somewhat started to rebuild a bridge with Charles after he came to see you at Whitney's. And while you've felt some relief that he still wants be with you, you've found yourself experiencing a whole new level of anxiety when it comes to his ultimatum.

It was him or it was Lewis. He couldn't be with you any other way any more.

You'd spoken to Whitney about it afterwards. You needed to make a decision but you didn't know where to begin. Whitney took inspiration from a Friends episode where Chandler made Ross write a pros and cons list about Rachel and Julie, only for it to backfire on Ross. He eventually got to be with Rachel but who was your Rachel?

Depsite your original sceptism, you'd written everything down any way, with Whitney chiming in with mostly negatives about Lewis. Her feelings are very clear, you'd thought to yourself in amusement. And by the end of the exercise, you couldn't even decide if it had helped you or hindered you.

As you lay awake that night, you thought about the both of them and at one point you just had to laugh. While Whitney had you focusing on all of the reasons why they were so different, you ended up thinking about the reasons why they were the same.

Apart from the obvious that they were both beautiful and the sexual chemistry was through the roof, you'd fallen for them in the same way. You'd met them both on nights out in London, they'd made the first move. Both were very confident in their pursuit of you. They made you feel wanted and they made you feel beautiful and sexy when you met them. You'd slept with both of them on the first night and you were hooked in an instant. They were both stubborn and felt easily threatened, acting like animals in the wild when another man came sniffing within a metre of you. And they were both bold and risk-taking. They weren’t afraid to go after what they wanted, the consequences were irrelevant, or at the very most an after thought.

But then your mind drifted back to the differences again. Lewis only seemed to be invested in you to make himself feel better while Charles was willing to do anything to make you feel better. And Lewis was the one willing to jeopardise your relationship with infidelity and open marriages, which had made Charles hate him so much. But then Charles, well, he pursued you despite knowing you were married and was okay with you to commit infidelity with him, which in turn made Lewis hate Charles...

You couldn't let you drive yourself crazy any more and so you decided that Charles was right, you needed to make some sort of decision. And so you had texted Lewis to say that you'd be calling by that afternoon. You needed to pick up new clothes and you wanted to spend time with Roscoe. Your text being met with a thumbs up emoji.

And this is how you found yourself outside your apartment door, no closer to a decision. You say a quick prayer before finally pushing open the apartment door and within seconds you were greeted by paws racing across the wooden floor. Roscoe is jumping up and down at your feet, desperate for your attention. He'd missed you just as much as you'd missed him.

You delayed entering the rest of the apartment, buying yourself some more time as you cuddled and played with Roscoe. But at some stage you had to rip the band aid off and a wave of deja vu hits you as you walk into the living room to find Lewis sprawled out on the sofa, remembering the last time you'd come home after some time apart.

"Feels familiar doesn't it?" Lewis chuckles as he looks up from his phone.

He's read your mind. He remembers that day so well too. And the more he thinks about that day, the more he wishes he could go back and deal with things differently.

But it's too late now. It's almost four months later and the two of you are now further apart than ever. But this time he's not as angry.

You awkwardly smile as you enter the living room, taking a seat on the armchair across from him, just like last time. The atmosphere is different though, it’s less tense but there’s an air of sadness that makes your stomach sink.

You play with the bottom of your skirt for a few moments, trying to figure out what to say and to his credit, Lewis lets you do this.

You eventually break your silence, "After the last time, I never imagined we'd end up here. I thought after that argument that you were done. You had a good reason to leave but you didn’t".

You pause for a moment, but you continue. It was about time you finally said something. You'd been quiet for far too long.

"And things changed after that. It's like you finally saw me again. You were finally willing to give me what I was looking for, which was for you to love me and to come back to me. And you did, but by that time I'd met Charles who was ready to give me everything I needed. No arrangements, no rules and no conditions”.

You take a deep breath and look over at Lewis, he's looking at you but you can't read the emotion in his eyes. He's quiet, he's going to let you say what you need to say.

"You've made me happy these last few months, Lewis. It's like how things used to be, just like I always wanted. But the more I think about it, the more I can't help but feel that you only made the effort with me was because you felt threatened that another guy was willing to do the job that you were incapable of doing".

His jaw twitches at that last comment. You feel like you may have pushed it a little too far but he holds his composure. He finally sits up on the sofa, it's his time to talk now.

"I know I've made some mistakes when it comes to our marriage. I've been foolish and I've been selfish but I'm willing to put in the work to fix us," there's intent in his voice, it's matching the look in his eyes.

"And I'm willing to put last weekend aside and we can start fresh," he carries on but you're intrigued by his comment.

"What do you mean by that?"

Lewis’ face scrunches, he didn't expect you to challenge him on that statement. He was actually waiting for some sort of apology but he’d put that aside for now.

"I'm willing to put seeing him behind us. I can forget about that stupid dinner and I can forget about your fling because I think what we have is worth so much more," the level of his voice is getting a little louder now. The composure that he had a few moments ago is quickly leaving his body. He's not used to you challenging his words and he's finding it more difficult to stay calm. He should be the one that's mad at you in his eyes.

"Charles isn't just some fling, Lewis. He means something to me," you cry out.

"That's bullshit," Lewis retorts.

"It's not bullshit, Lewis. Charles and I, we care about each other," your voice is getting louder and squeakier the more this conversation continues.

Lewis laughs for a moment, he’s sure that this has to be a joke.

"Fine, you know what, let's say you care about the guy you've been sleeping with. But is he really worth jeopardising our entire relationship for? It's not like you love him or anything," Lewis cries out and he stops as he notices something flicker in your eyes. He recognises that look. It's the same look that you and Charles had when you saw each other at dinner. It's guilt.

A wave of nausea washes over Lewis as reality begins to settle in. The situation was so much worse than he thought, had he really been that delusional to think that you and Charles were just a minor thing? An annoying fly that’s buzzing around your ear until you kill it with a rolled-up newspaper.

No, because the look the look on your face tells Lewis what he had been ignoring for so long, Charles is here to stay.

"You... you love him?" his voice is barely audible but you don't miss it.

The naivety in his voice stuns you and you're left speechless. Tears begin to fill in your eyes and you're unable to answer him. But your silence and the tears in your eyes is enough of a confirmation to Lewis as he needs.

You feel a sense of guilt as you see Lewis begin to process this and he begins shaking his head furiously, “No, no, you don't love him".

He stands up from the sofa and begins pacing the living room floor. He's trying to keep himself calm but he has so much anger running through his body right now. How could you love somebody else when you loved him?

"Lewis," you begin but you don't know what to say. And so you just watch Lewis run through the motions. He's angry, then he's confused, then he's sad. He's clawing at the braids on his head to try and find some release but he's overwhelmed. He's going through the five stages of grief except he's not willing to accept the reality that you could meet somebody else. And that maybe his actions have finally come back to bite him in the ass.

"Lewis, can you please sit down?" you cry out. The more he paces around the room like a mad man, the more unpredictable he's becoming.

"You don't love him, you don't love him," he's muttering to himself. If he says it enough times surely it'll become the truth.

"Lewis, please".

But your plea goes ignored. He's still pacing around the room. It's stupid of you to even try but you can't watch him like this any more and so you get out of your seat and walk over to him. You grab onto his wrists in an attempt to stop him pulling at his hair.

"Lewis, can you just stop?" you cry out.

And to your amazement, he does stop. The grip he has on his hair loosens but he's still looking at the ground.

"Can you look at me for a moment?" you whisper, hoping that if you speak quietly that it'll bring down the tension in the room. Lewis hesitates for a moment, but he eventually lifts his head so you're looking into one another's eyes. Your heart sinks at the look that he's giving you. It's a combination of hatred and sadness.

Once you're sure he won't fly off the handle, you let go of his wrists and your hands make their way to his face. Your hands taking form around his cheeks, your touch is gentle.

"I... I ... I'm so sorry, Lewis. But Charles and I, there’s something there," you whisper.

He licks his lips, composing himself once more before he speaks, "Stop staying his name. I don’t want to hear his name any more in our home". You wince at the tone in his voice.

You let out a little sigh, not really sure what to say next. Even ChatGPT couldn't find an answer or script for this.

"So what, do you two have a little plan to run off together or something?" Lewis spits, his eyes searching yours for an answer.

"There's no plan, Lewis, there was never any plan. It just happened," you tell him.

He scoffs. "I should have punched him in the face when I had the chance".

You try not to roll your eyes, "That wouldn't have achieved must would it?"

Lewis chuckles sarcastically. "It would have made me feel better though".

Silence falls on the room. You’re both breathing heavily, trying to figure out what direction this will go in next. Lewis is doing his best to control his emotions but his body fails him as a tear spills over, softly rolling down his cheek. You use your thumb to wipe his tear away.

“I want to hate you,” Lewis says a few moments later, “But I’m tired, [Y/N]. I want to be mad that you could love someone else who isn’t me but to know that I pushed you away… I don’t know how to deal with that”.

This is the most real Lewis has been in so long. This is the Lewis that you loved and somewhere along the way you lost him. But he here’s with you now, and he’s looking at you with so much regret and sadness.

“Do you still love me?”

It was the same question that you had asked Charles.

“What? Lewis, of course I still love you. Through everything I’ve always loved you,” you reply. His face is still in your hands. And so he places hands on top of yours, his skin is so warm and soft that you let yourself breath a little more.

“Let me fix this, okay? I want to prove to you that we deserve another chance,” he says with determination in his voice.

“I… Okay…” you begin to stutter. Your mind is still foggy when it comes to make a decision but Lewis isn’t going down without a fight.

“We said in sickness and health, for better and for worse. You’re still wearing the ring that I gave you and until you take that thing off, I’m not giving up,” he tells you. He doesn’t wait for a response as he lungs towards you and his mouth makes contact with the corner of your mouth.

You’re taken aback by his sudden movements and stumble backwards but he’s quick and wraps his arms around your waist. He makes a better attempt at kissing you again and this time his lips meet yours.

“Lewis,” you mumble against his lips in protest.

He takes his lips from yours but he doesn’t pull away. Instead he moves his lips along your jaw, nipping and sucking on your skin before he makes his way towards the skin under your ear. He leaves a lick in your sensitive spot before moving upwards, his warm breath against your ear.

“Let me prove it to you, baby,” he whispers.

But it doesn’t feel right. You’d only be leading him on and you’re no closer to being able to make a rational decision on your future. Letting him “prove it to you” will only make things worse.

“Lewis, stop,” you cry and use your hands to shove his chest to create some distance between the two of you. “I can’t do this, Lewis. Not like this”.

He’s looking at you, dumbfounded, lips plump from his attempts to leave his mark on you.

“This isn’t how we fix us okay,” you tell him. “I.. I thought we were ready to have this conversation but clearly we still have a lot to process”.

You attempt to walk past him towards the door but he grabs onto your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Wh… what do you mean? Baby, you can’t leave”.

You turn to look at him and let out a little sigh. “I think we need more time, Lew. We need some space. I’m going to go home for a few days.”

-

Charles is questioning his entire sanity as he makes his way to the entrance of the coffee shop. He still has time to turn around and run from this ridiculous situation. It’s just asking for trouble coming here. But his body is clearly more curious than his mind as his feet are still moving in the direction of the entrance.

Hesitating slightly, he opens the door and his eyes immediately scan the coffee shop for a familiar face. And he spots it, in the very back corner. The face looks as tense as he feels. A pair of dark eyes land on Charles and they’re already attempting to burn through him.

Making his way over, Charles doesn’t say anything as takes the empty seat, aware of the eyes that are very much meant to intimidate him.

He clears his throat as he looks up. He takes in the appearance of the person opposite him. They’ve made an effort in their appearance - hair tied back neatly, wearing crisp white clothing in an attempt of looking fresh and innocent and the smell of aftershave is hovering around the table. But he doesn’t miss the bags underneath their eyes, they match his own. The turmoil and emotions of the last couple of weeks have taken their tole on both of them.

And then he notices the shining mental on their finger that makes his stomach turn, a wedding ring. A taunting reminder of your situation.

They’re still looking at each other, jaws twitching. Curious as to who will make the first move. It’s Lewis.

“Thanks for accepting the invite and coming,” his tone is far from sincere.

Charles nods in response.

Lewis attempts not to roll his eyes at the lack of engagement from Charles.

“I thought since [Y/N] is spending some time back in Belgium with her family, it would be helpful for us two to talk,” he continues, his dark eyes still fixated on Charles.

“Yeah, she mentioned a few days ago that it’d been a while since she’d been home,” it’s a lie from Charles. He wants to get under Lewis’ skin after his behaviour at your birthday dinner. It’s petty, but it’s amusing to watch Lewis try to remain in control of his emotions. The thought of you spending time with Charles post-birthday disaster must be driving Lewis insane.

“Well, I think it’s good for her to spend time with her mother. No distractions”.

Charles scoffs.

“And what do you mean by that? No distractions.”

He’s mocking Lewis, this is all bullshit.

Lewis’ jaw twitches but he remains calm. Charles’ presence caused him to embarrass himself the last time, he won’t let him do it again.

“Well, I think that our marriage will be much better off without needless interferences. People getting in the way of us working on our marriage”.

Charles really has to hold back his laughter. Was this guy for real?

“I think it’s a bit rich coming from you,” Charles retorts, “weren’t you the one fucking other people before suggesting to your wife that you have an open marriage?”

He’s enjoying seeing Lewis’ jaw twitch, his knuckles turning white as he clenches his fists.

“Either you don’t give a fuck or you’re incredibly stupid that you underestimated [Y/N]’s worth when it comes to interest in other men,” Charles continues, “and maybe you overestimated your own. Because she found someone that’s ready to love her and here you are, sitting in a cafe, with your wife in another country. And you’ve had to ask me here so you can tell me to stop fucking her”.

Lewis’ eyelids begin to flutter as he uses every ounce of control in his body to stop himself from lunging over the table and punching Charles. The arrogant smirk on Charles’ face is only growing. He can’t let him win, he won’t let him win.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” Lewis snarls. “You’re just her side piece, remember that. When you lay awake at night thinking about her, she’s in bed with me”.

But his words go over Charles’ head, he smells the vulnerability from Lewis, he’s practically reeking of it. This is his revenge on Lewis for emasculating him in front of you and his friends.

“It was pretty easy to get [Y/N] to cheat on you. It didn’t take her much convincing,” Charles laughs.

He’s fighting dirty and he knows it. But Lewis has dug himself this grave, Charles is just finishing off the last of it.

Lewis runs his hands through his hair. He can’t sit still may longer. If he can’t punch Charles in the face, he needs to find something else to occupy them with.

He sits in silence for a few moments. Trying to find any last dig that he can throw at Charles. He’s desperate and so he finds the one thing that may hurt Charles.

“Before she left for Belgium, [Y/N] came by the flat to speak to me. We talked and she’s very much still in love with me,” Lewis pauses as he begins to play with his wedding band. He waits until Charles’ eyes fall on the mental wrapped around his finger. A subtle dig before the big blow, “She’s still wearing her wedding ring, you now. And she wore it while she let me fuck her”.

It’s Charles’ turn to hold his composure as he tries not to let Lewis’ confession affect him. He doesn’t know if he believes Lewis or not. But the smug expression on your husband’s face is enough for Charles to even entertain the idea.

Silence takes over as they both try to figure out their next move.

Surprisingly, They both take a few moments to let their anger die down. This conversation is too heated and it’s only going to make things worse. And neither of them wants to give the other an opportunity to win.

Whatever outcome either of them expected from this meeting, this wasn’t the right way to go about it. Not if they wanted to lose you. And so Charles stands up from his chair, no longer wanting to be a part of this game.

He starts to walk away but he turns back. He’s got one more thing to say.

“And while you lay there at night, with your wife in your arms. Remember that she’s lying there, thinking about how she loves me. And all because you pushed her away”.

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART X

—lay all your love on me

summary: two idiots who got their shit together and now love each other unconditionally.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 13.2k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). lots of smut, p in v, fingering, unprotected sex, lots of fluff, cursing, age gap, mentions of alcohol. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: hello besties, dual pov so watch out for that, and reminding everyone this is a work of fiction so just sit back and relax and enjoy! but if this isn't your thing, move along :)

masterlist!

February 25, 2023

London, England

London felt different this time. The city hummed with its usual, muted energy—the overcast sky casting everything in a soft, diffuse light—but for you and Pedro, it was like being in your own world, hidden in plain sight. The press tour for The Mandalorian had begun, but this time things had shifted. You were together now, and the stolen glances, soft touches, and subtle smiles painted your days in colors no one else could see.

Five days of interviews and cameras, but you didn’t waste a minute when you were alone. London became your playground, with dinners tucked away in quiet corners and late-night walks along the Thames. Photos of the two of you surfaced online, of course—your laughter caught mid-frame as you leaned into him outside a restaurant, Pedro’s arm draped casually over your shoulders—but to the world, you were still just friends.

There was an unspoken ease, an intimacy that hadn’t been there before. It was in the way Pedro’s hand would brush against yours when no one was looking and how you’d catch him staring at you with that quiet, knowing smile that made your heart do somersaults.

One interviewer joked about Pedro’s tendency to play father figures on screen. "It’s funny," they said, "you keep playing these fatherly roles. What’s the draw?"

Pedro chuckled, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, glancing at you before answering. He wasn’t just answering the question—he was letting everyone into his head, just for a moment. "I like the idea of it," he said, his voice mellow and thoughtful. "Being able to imagine that responsibility, that kind of love. It’s... comforting."

You nudged him playfully, lighting up the moment with a grin. "Comforting, huh?" you teased, leaning in. "You’re really gunning for that ‘World’s Coolest Dad’ mug, aren’t ya?"

He chuckled again, the sound low and amused. "Oh, absolutely," he replied, mock serious. "But, let’s be real—I’m already cool dad material. Look at me." He spread his arms like he was showing off some award-worthy masterpiece.

You shifted on your seat, eyebrow raised, and whispered, “Honey, they want you to be the daddy, not the dad.”

Pedro froze for a split second before bursting into laughter, his eyes crinkling in that way that always made your stomach flip. "Touché," he said, still laughing. "I’m multi-talented, I can be both."

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your grin. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll get you the mug.”

The room erupted in laughter, and the easy banter between you two was back, but there was a difference now. Every joke, every shared smile held a layer of intimacy that no one else could decipher.

March 14, 2023

Los Angeles, CA

The night was electric, as it always was, a celebration of film and glamour.

Pedro looked gorgeous in his black Zegna suit, the sharp lines contrasting with the softness of his hair, longer than usual, curling slightly at his collar. His face lit up in that way you loved, the crinkles around his eyes deepening as he smiled. You, too, had dressed for the occasion in a stunning black Oscar de la Renta gown, the fabric hugging your body like a second skin. But it wasn’t the dress or the cameras that made you feel beautiful—it was the way Pedro looked at you from across the room. He looks at you, not at anyone else. It feels very nice when he looks at you. It's grounding.

You arrived separately. The decision had been mutual—to keep your relationship private for just a little longer. Inside the Dolby Theatre, you texted each other relentlessly, your phone lighting up every few minutes.

Pedro: You look unreal.

You glanced across the room and spotted him, his eyes locked on you like you were the only thing in the room worth watching.

You: Have you seen yourself? Ridiculous.

You watched him bite back a smile. You knew what he was thinking, that playful look he got when he was trying to be serious but couldn't quite manage it around you.

Pedro: Wanna trade seats?

You glanced over at your seating arrangements, aware that the cameras were everywhere. It was almost torturous not to be able to sit next to him, to lean into his side and steal private moments.

You: Don’t tempt me.

He raised an eyebrow from across the room, his smile lazy but full of warmth. You could practically hear him saying, "Try me," without even needing the words.

At one point, your phone buzzed again.

Pedro: I think the guy next to me just tried to flirt with me.

You: Well, tell him he’s got competition.

Pedro: Should I let him down easy?

You stifled a laugh, shaking your head and glancing toward the stage.

You: Maybe let him sweat it out first.

The night wore on, and he presented an award with Lizzie Olsen, and you couldn’t take your eyes off him—his smile, the way he owned the stage with that effortless charm. Every now and then, you’d steal moments—walking to each other’s seats under the guise of casual conversation—but there was thrill in the secrecy. It was fun, this private world you shared, just for the two of you.

Later, during one of the commercial breaks, the both of you managed to slip away backstage, away from the sea of people. The hustle and bustle of the theater seemed to fade as you both found a semi-dark corner. The dim light cast shadows on the walls, but all you could see was him—the soft smile on his lips, the playful glint in his eyes.

Pedro wasted no time. His arm slid around your waist, pulling you close until there was barely any space between you. His scent, familiar and warm, wrapped around you as he leaned down, stealing a kiss from your lips. It was quick but full of tenderness, his lips brushing against yours as if he couldn’t help himself.

You laughed softly, half-heartedly trying to push him away, knowing you had only a few minutes before you’d be called on stage to present the next award. “Pedro, stop,” you whispered, your hands gently resting on his chest. “We only have a few minutes, and I have to go soon. They’ll call me any second.”

But he wasn’t deterred. His lips found yours again, a bit more insistent this time, kissing you deeply before pulling back just enough to breathe. “A few minutes of you,” he said in a low, almost reverent voice, “would be enough to keep me going for years.”

You felt a flutter in your chest, the world outside your little bubble disappearing as his thumb grazed your cheek. You tilted your head up, your lips brushing his once more, a tender kiss that lingered just long enough to make you want more. His hand rested on the small of your back, the heat of his touch soothing you in the moment.

“You’re making this really hard, you know?” you teased softly, your voice breathless.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling against your chest as his forehead rested against yours. “Good,” he whispered, his breath fanning across your lips. “Let them call you. I’m not letting you go until the last second.”

You smiled, leaning into him, allowing yourself just a few more stolen seconds. His lips found your temple, a soft, lingering kiss, as if trying to memorize the feel of you before the moment passed. You closed your eyes, savoring the warmth of him, the safety of his arms around you.

Then, reluctantly, you heard the distant call of your name from the stage manager. Pedro sighed, his hand slowly sliding away from your waist. “My time's up.”

You looked up at him, a dangerous grin spreading across your face. “Don’t worry,” you whispered, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “you'll get to have me for the rest of the night.”

March 31, 2023

Los Angeles, CA

By the time the PaleyFest rolled around, Pedro was already feeling the weight of keeping everything hidden. He wasn’t a man who liked to keep secrets—especially not something as big as you. You sat so close to him, so near yet so far, and it took everything in him not to reach out and show the world how much he loved you. Instead, he found himself compensating, channeling his feelings into every casual touch, every stolen glance that was meant for only you.

He showed up that night in a brown and beige cardigan, the fabric stretching over his broad shoulders, paired with green pants and black Chelsea boots. You had told him once how much you liked them. His scruff had grown fuller, darker, and he knew you liked it like that. It drove him crazy when your fingers brushed against it, soft touches that sent flames all the way to his chest.

The night had gone by swiftly enough. Interviews, panels, the usual public-facing routine. Yet, every moment felt charged with the knowledge that you were there, just inches away. You were sitting beside him during the Q&A session, your knees touching. His hand would occasionally ghost over yours, brushing against your fingers, almost accidentally—except it wasn’t. Nothing about this was an accident. You were deliberate in everything you did, in the way you turned toward him, your laughter soft and quiet as if sharing a secret only he could understand.

It was maddening. Pedro was a good actor, but this was real life, and it was becoming harder to play the part of just colleagues, just friends. Every time you touched him, even in the smallest ways, he was reminded of how badly he wanted to kiss you right then and there. He had to keep his cool, though—keep things professional. But it was becoming impossible. You made it impossible.

The way you spoke during the panel, your voice warm and confident, filled with that easy charm that came so naturally to you—he was falling apart inside. He couldn’t focus on anything else. Every word out of your mouth felt like a temptation. Every soft glance in his direction was a tug on the string that bound his heart to yours.

God, you’re too much to be denied, he thought, his mind drifting as he watched you from the corner of his eye. He wanted to kiss you. Right there, in front of everyone. To hell with the secrecy. The privacy you two had was a blessing and a curse. It made loving you easier in some ways—no eyes watching, no prying questions. But it also made it sad, frustrating. All these private moments that he clung to—your stolen touches, your quiet words of affection—were everything to him. But there was a part of him that wanted more.

He sometimes forgot that you were supposed to be keeping things quiet. It just felt so natural to be near you, to let his hand graze yours, or to press his knee against yours while answering a question. Nobody saw a thing—or if they did, nobody said anything. It was amazing how invisible these touches of heaven were to everyone else, how easily they slipped under the radar.

As the panel went on, Pedro found himself drifting. His mind wasn’t in the questions or the answers—it was in the curve of your lips, the sound of your laughter, the way your leg brushed against his every time you shifted in your seat. You made it so easy to fall in love with you. Too easy.

When you turned to him, your eyes meeting his for just a split second longer than necessary, his mouth went dry. That quiet connection was enough to make him feel like he was losing his grip. He shifted in his seat, his heart pounding in his chest, trying to focus on the discussion at hand but finding it increasingly difficult with his pants growing tighter by the second.

He needed to have you.

Later, when the two of you made it back to the hotel, Pedro could barely keep himself together. The second the door clicked shut behind you, something in him snapped. He’d been holding back all night.

As soon as the door closed, his hands were on you—rough, needy, pulling you close like he’d been starving for you. Like a dog let off his leash. His fingers pressed into your hips, firm and demanding, and his mouth was on yours before you had time to take a breath. It wasn’t soft or gentle; it was raw, desperate. Slow, deep kisses like he’d been holding his breath the entire night, waiting for this moment when he could finally let it all out.

You barely made it to the couch before things escalated. He couldn’t keep his hands off you, his fingers slipping beneath your clothes, touching every inch of your skin like he needed it. Like he’d been deprived of you for days, even though it had only been hours since his hand had last grazed yours. His thumb brushed over your nipple through your shirt, and you gasped into his mouth, pushing your hips forward to meet his.

“You’re not wearing a bra,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and raspy, full of heat. It wasn’t a question. It was a realization that had his cock straining painfully against his pants, desperate to feel you.

His fingers slid between your legs, pressing against you through the fabric, and you moaned softly, your head falling back against the couch as he worked you open. Slick and warm, your body responded to him like it always did—eagerly, hungrily. His breath was hot against your neck as he kissed a line up your throat, whispering things only you were meant to hear.

“I’ve been thinking about this all night,” he groaned, grinding his hips into the cushions beneath you. His cock was rock hard, desperate for any kind of friction, but he wasn’t ready to give in just yet. Not until he had you moaning his name like no one else could. “I couldn’t stop thinking about getting you like this…desperate for me.”

His fingers moved inside you with a kind of expertise that left you breathless, his thumb circling your clit with just enough pressure to have you arching your back, gripping his arms for stability. He hopes you feel his frustration—his need to release everything he couldn’t show in public, the need to pour every unsaid word into this moment. He kissed you harder, devouring you, his body pressing you deeper into the couch as he gave in to the desperation that had been simmering beneath the surface.

You clung to him, your breath coming in shallow gasps, your fingers curling in his hair as he fucked you with his hand, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. His mouth was close to your ear, his words a hot, breathy confession. “I can’t stand it sometimes… being near you and not being able to touch you the way I want.”

You moaned. The sound—so deliciously wanton—spurred him on, his movements becoming more urgent and intense.

Pedro groaned, his lips brushing the shell of your ear and his beard scratching your skin as he thrust his fingers deeper. “I’m always desperate to make you feel good,” he murmured, his breath hitching with the intensity of it. He was grinding his cock into the couch, trying to find some kind of relief, but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

“Please, more,” you gasped, your voice trembling, your body tightening with the anticipation of release. Pedro could feel it, could hear it in the way your breath hitched, the way your hips moved against his hand.

Just when you were about to fall apart, his mouth was on yours again, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, swallowing your moans as you came undone beneath him. Your body trembled in his arms, and he groaned, kissing you harder.

You were still coming down when he finally lifted you into his lap, pressing you against him, his cock straining beneath you. He knew you could feel it. He knew you wanted it just as badly as he did.

But then came the frustration, the gnawing ache. His hand moved to your cheek, cupping it as he kissed you softer this time, a contrast to the earlier desperation. “I think about kissing you so much,” he admitted, his voice low and husky as his fingers traced lazy circles on your thigh.

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Good thing you get to do it whenever you want now.”

Pedro’s lips hovered just above yours, his breath hot and ragged. “Well, not whenever I want,” he muttered, his voice low, almost hoarse, before he found your mouth again. His lips trailed along your jaw, slowly, torturously, until they grazed the corner of your mouth.

You laughed softly, the tension in the room shifting with your teasing tone. “Blessed be this tired conversation,” you murmured, your words brushing against his lips. “We agreed we’d wait, baby. It’s better this way.”

His forehead rested against yours, his warm breath mingling with your own as his fingers trailed down the side of your face. His eyes, heavy with love and frustration, bore into yours. “But I don’t want to anymore,” he confessed, his voice raw with need. His fingertips trailed down the side of your face, tracing your cheekbone, committing each detail of your skin to memory like it might be the last time he’d get to touch you like this.

You grinned, teasing him with that wicked smile of yours that made him feel both alive and tormented. “You could fuck me on the seven o’clock news, and they’d just say I was desperate for attention,” you said, laughing at your own joke. But Pedro couldn’t bring himself to laugh.

His thumb brushed over your cheek, and his hand cupped your face with a tenderness that made him ache. “We’ll face it together,” he whispered, the sincerity in his voice a promise. "Whatever they throw at us."

He didn’t know how, didn’t know when, but he knew that he was ready to take on whatever came next—so long as it meant he didn’t have to keep hiding you. Hiding us.

Before the moment could spiral into something heavier, before his thoughts took him down that path, Pedro kissed you again. Slower this time, more deliberate. Like he was trying to communicate with his lips what he couldn’t with words.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. Your breath was hot against his mouth as you spoke between kisses. “I know it’s frustrating, but we have this, Pedro. We have us.”

The words cut through the noise in his head, grounding him. He groaned softly, his hands slipping lower, his grip tightening as if you might disappear. “I don’t want to wait anymore,” he said again, the need in his voice raw, his body already pressing closer to yours. He felt like he was on the verge of breaking.

He saw something flash in your eyes—desire, affection, understanding. “Then don’t,” you said, voice firm with want. A playful smirk tugged at your lips. “Now shut up and fuck me, lover boy.”

He smiled, and the last thread of his restraint snapped. His hands moved quickly, fingers pulling at your clothes in a frenzy, his breath coming faster as he discarded his own. The second your bare skin pressed against his, Pedro felt like he was drowning in the sensation of you. He’d wanted this—needed this—all day, maybe longer.

You sank down onto him slowly, and Pedro groaned, his hands gripping your hips as he felt you take him in. The heat of you, the slickness, made him curse under his breath. The stretch of you around him, the way you clenched at every inch, drove him wild.

“God, you feel so good,” he groaned, his voice rough with arousal. He could barely keep his thoughts straight; the sensation of being inside you was enough to make him lose his mind. The way you gasped, the way your body tightened around him, made him dizzy with want.

His lips found your neck, his teeth grazing against your skin as he slurred a curse, his body moving in sync with yours. You didn’t start slow. Neither of you had the patience for it. Your hips rolled against his with a roughness that made his cock throb inside you, and Pedro couldn’t hold back the way he groaned into your neck, his hands digging into your waist, guiding you harder, faster.

Each thrust felt like a confession, like he was pouring all the things he hadn't been able to say for months into the movement of your bodies.

Your mouth found his ear, and through the gasps and the heat, you whispered, “I love you.”

The words broke something inside him. Pedro’s hips stuttered, his body jerking as he pulled you closer, his hand cupping the back of your neck. His lips hovered near your ear, and he whispered back, voice trembling, “I know, baby.”

You moved faster, grinding down on him, the wet sounds of your bodies echoing in the room, and Pedro thought he might lose it. The way you felt—the way you looked—was too much, too perfect. He was on the verge, teetering at the edge, and he didn’t want it to end.

Not yet.

But your body tightened around him, and he felt you shudder as you came, the sound of your breathless cry sending him over the edge. Pedro groaned, his hips jerking hard as he came inside you, his grip on you almost bruising as his release hit him like a wave, leaving him breathless and shaking.

You pressed a soft kiss to his freckled shoulder, your voice light. “So… still frustrated?”

Pedro chuckled, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “Not right now,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, “but give me ten minutes, and I’ll probably be ready to go again.”

Your laughter filled the room, and for the first time all night, everything felt right.

Everything felt perfect.

•••

Several weeks had passed, and with them, the world had changed in quiet, insidious ways. Paparazzi photos had surfaced, capturing stolen moments and raising questions. The speculation had simmered, threatening to boil over. But this morning, when you woke up to the persistent buzz of your phone, the weight of those weeks hadn’t fully sunk in.

Your hand lazily reaches for his side of the bed, only to find it empty.

Still half asleep, you reached out for your phone, the screen blinding in the dim light of your room. As your eyes adjusted, you saw the thousands of messages, and a particular notification popped up—an Instagram post from Pedro. You blinked, and then opened it.

There they were, pictures of you, ones you hadn’t even realized he’d taken.

The first image was from one of your walks in London. You were bundled up in a thick scarf and coat, the fog of your breath visible in the cool air. Your hair was slightly tousled from the wind, cheeks flushed from the cold, and though you weren’t looking at the camera, you were looking at him, your smile soft, eyes alight with an easy, unguarded happiness. There was something about the way you looked at him in that picture—it was a look only he ever got to see.

Another photo showed you in a fit of laughter, your head thrown back, eyes scrunched shut, one hand covering your face as if trying to stifle the sound. It was blurry, like he’d caught you mid-movement, mid-moment. Completely unposed, completely you.

The next was a close-up, your hand stretched out toward him, your face only partially visible in the background, eyes shining, lips curved in a grin. You’d been reaching for his phone that day, playfully trying to snatch it from him, teasing him about taking too many pictures.

And then, a quieter one—an intimate photo of you curled up beside him on a couch, a book in hand, legs tucked beneath you. Your hair was untidy, and you weren’t paying attention to the world around you, just lost in your thoughts. The soft golden light of late afternoon bathed the room, and the moment felt like a secret—yours and his alone.

But what caught you wasn’t just the photos. It was the caption, simple yet profound in its clarity:

"Happy birthday to my best friend, the love of my life, my adventure partner, and my girl."

The internet exploded, notifications from friends, fans, your team, all lighting up your phone. Messages poured in—questions, congratulations, shock. But none of that mattered.

What mattered was the truth in Pedro’s words, as clear as the morning light filtering through your window. No more hiding, no more stolen glances or shadows in the background. Just this—a love that had been quietly building, finally stepping into the open.

May 6, 2023

New York, NY

The night of the Met Gala buzzed with energy, a heady mix of anticipation swirling in the air. You both got ready in separate hotel rooms, allowing your respective teams the space to work their magic. The atmosphere was electric, the evening monumental—not just for the fashion, but for what it symbolized: your first public event as a couple. You had spent hours getting ready, your heart racing for reasons beyond the red carpet.

When you finally laid eyes on Pedro in his Valentino ensemble, time seemed to slow. He stood in the doorway, resplendent in a long crimson coat that swirled dramatically as he moved, paired with tailored shorts and sleek black boots. The boldness of the look, the way it fit him so perfectly, stole your breath.

"Oh my God," you whispered, unable to stop your jaw from dropping. There was something about seeing him like this—bold, confident, unapologetically himself—that sent a rush of heat through you.

Pedro, amused by your reaction, raised an eyebrow. “I know,” he said, smirking slightly, clearly aware of the effect he had on you.

You couldn’t help yourself, a cheeky grin curling on your lips. “May I say, as the kids say, that you are serving cunt?”

He burst out laughing, the sound filling the hallway and bouncing off the walls, a deep, genuine laugh that made your heart skip a beat. As he stepped closer, his eyes roamed over you, taking in every inch of your body wrapped in the immaculate white Versace gown. The gown hugged your body perfectly, each intricate detail catching the light as you moved.

"Well," he said, still chuckling, his voice dipping as his gaze softened, "you're making it very hard to concentrate on anything else."

The cameras flashed endlessly as you stepped onto the carpet together, arms intertwined, your bodies pressed close as if the entire world didn’t matter. For the first time, there was no hiding, no second-guessing. Your love was out there, on display for everyone to see, the vulnerability of it both thrilling and terrifying. Every step you took together felt like a declaration.

Inside the venue, the evening flowed. The opulent setting melted into the background as you moved through the crowd, hand in hand. There were moments where Pedro would pull you in close, whispering jokes or sweet nothings in your ear, and you'd catch the glint of mischief in his eyes. You danced together several times, his hands resting on your waist, the weight of his touch grounding you in a night that felt like a dream.

The chaos of the night faded away as soon as you were alone, the two of you slipping out of your clothes. The city outside was alive, its lights casting a soft, romantic glow over the bed as you lay together, skin on skin. Pedro moved above you, his hands tracing gentle paths down your body, every touch filled with reverence.

His lips followed the same trail, soft and deliberate, until he kissed you, slow and tender, his body sinking into yours with a quiet intensity. The urgency of earlier was gone, replaced with something deeper, something that spoke of love and forever. His movements were languid, like you had all the time in the world, and maybe you did.

•••

Pedro had been cast in Gladiator 2 and left for Morocco in June to start filming. The distance was both expected and dreaded, the time apart a necessary evil in your world. But then he was gone, and you missed him every day. You flew out to see him twice, visiting the set with a thrill in your chest, knowing that you were entering his world, one where he wore armor and swords and commanded a screen.

The second time you visited, you stayed in a quaint residence near the edge of the city. The night air in Morocco was warm and fragrant. Lying on the bed, a soft breeze ruffling the curtains, you watched Pedro kick off his boots, shedding the intensity of the day's filming as his grin softened in your direction.

“Come here,” he murmured, voice still rough from the day's work.

You rose, crossing the room to slip into his arms, pressing your face into his chest. His arms tightened around you, pulling you into him. You sighed into the space between his collarbones, feeling utterly content in his embrace.

“You know, it never gets old—seeing you in costume,” you teased, peering up at him.

He chuckled, pressing a kiss into your hair. “If I knew you had a thing for gladiators, I would’ve done this sooner.”

You slapped his chest lightly, earning another laugh. “I don’t. Just you.”

•••

When July came, the vast ocean between you dissolved, replaced by the steady beat of his heart as Pedro flew from Morocco. The journey had been long, the hours heavy, but the moment he stepped onto the red carpet in Los Angeles and saw you, standing tall in your black dress, framed against the shimmer of camera flashes, his weariness evaporated. The world could have spun around you, but all that existed for him was you—radiant, poised, and undeniably powerful.

His eyes never left you, and as the evening wore on, he finally drew close, his presence a gentle comfort in the midst of the chaotic premiere. “I’m so proud of you,” he whispered, his lips grazing your ear, each word carrying a tenderness that only you could feel.

Without hesitation, you leaned back into him, your body instinctively finding its place against his. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you in just a little tighter, grounding you amidst the sparkle of the night. “Thank you for being here,” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, meant only for him. It was a moment suspended in time, the noise fading as his warmth enveloped you.

In his arms, you weren’t the glamorous you, the center of attention. You were just you, and he was simply Pedro—the man who had flown across continents just to be by your side for the night. His pride in you radiated through every gentle touch, every lingering glance, and in those precious moments, you felt it deeply.

There was no performance here, no expectations. You didn’t have to try; you didn’t have to prove anything. With him, you were never too much or not enough. You were loved—completely and without condition.

•••

The SAG-AFTRA strike gave you both a break you hadn’t anticipated, but it was exactly what you needed. For the first time in ages, there were no press tours, no filming schedules, no red carpets to think about—just you and Pedro in the brownstone you'd bought together in New York.

The place was still in disarray, a maze of half-unpacked boxes, paint swatches taped to walls, and mismatched furniture that had yet to find its place. But it was yours. It was home.

Most days were spent amidst the chaos, trying to bring some sense of order to the space. You’d argue, though never seriously, about where to hang a certain painting, or which color should blanket the living room walls. Pedro had been adamant about a soft olive green, his voice confident as he gestured to the swatch. You’d rolled your eyes, but eventually relented, knowing full well he’d win you over. The walls gradually filled with memories—framed photos of your shared adventures, artwork picked up during travels, and books, some stacked haphazardly, others lovingly arranged by Pedro himself.

One rainy Sunday morning, you found yourself curled up on the couch in the living room, wearing Pedro’s emotional support Lakers shirt, the yellow one, the fabric soft and familiar against your skin. Pedro lay with his head in your lap, your fingers absentmindedly threading through his dark curls. His eyes softened as he looked up at you, a smile playing at the edges of his lips, those crinkling lines at the corners that always made your heart flutter.

"Keep it until I come back," he had said, handing you the shirt the night before he left for Morocco. You’d kept it, of course, holding onto that part of him while he was gone, as if the shirt itself carried a trace of his warmth, his presence. Somehow, Pedro’s t-shirts always felt softer than yours, even though they were washed in the same generic detergent.

When he finally returned, seeing him at the door was enough to make your pulse quicken. You stood there, in his Lakers shirt, grinning at him in the way that only he could inspire. His eyes darkened when he noticed, a low sound escaping his throat. He didn’t even bother to hide the desire that bloomed so quickly between you, his fingers already tugging at the hem of the shirt before you even had the chance to say anything.

That night, he made love to you with the shirt still on, pushing the fabric higher as his hands skimmed the bare skin of your thighs. His fingers knew exactly how to touch you, how to unlock the deepest parts of you before you even knew what was happening. Pedro always wanted your company in such a frank, straightforward way, his need so clear and open that you found yourself giving in to him completely, surrendering to his hands and his mouth before you even realized what you were doing.

As his lips pressed against the curve of your throat, trailing kisses down your neck, he murmured softly, “Missed you so much, mi amor,” his words brushing against your skin as his hand curled tenderly against your ear, thumb tracing the delicate curve. Your eyes caught a glimpse of the tiny bullseye doodle inked on the back of his left hand, just between his thumb and index finger.

The days unfolded like that—long stretches of time where the outside world felt far away. You’d lounge in the living room, watching movies. Or dancing to Prince songs in the kitchen while cooking together.

•••

The strike went on longer than expected, giving him something he hadn’t had in ages—time. Time to breathe, to be with you without the constant pull of deadlines, flights, or set schedules.

When the idea of escaping to Europe surfaced, it felt like fate. He craved your company in ways he hadn’t realized until the possibility of uninterrupted days became real. And so, flights were booked, suitcases stuffed, and you ran away together.

Paris was the first stop. Cobblestone streets and the smell of fresh bread lingered in the air as you wandered hand-in-hand along the Seine. Pedro couldn’t keep his eyes off you. You were his favorite sight in the city.

One evening, the sky was tinted rosy, as if it, too, was in love, bathing the city in a soft, ethereal glow. You leaned into him, head resting against his shoulder, as you stood by the water, the Eiffel Tower looming in the background.

“We needed this,” you murmured, voice as soft as the setting sun.

“Yeah, we did,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The simplicity of the moment made his heart swell. Here, in Paris, everything slowed down, and they had time—time to love without distraction.

•••

Mallorca had a way of making everything slow down. It was the kind of place that made Pedro feel young again. The air was thick with the scent of the sea, and the sky stretched out, impossibly blue, matching the water that shimmered below.

When you arrived at the hotel, the exhaustion from travel and the constant rush of life evaporated as soon as his hands found you.

He couldn't wait any longer, his hands reaching for you the moment you crossed the threshold into your room. His fingers tangled in your hair, his lips pressing urgently against yours as he murmured, "Take this off, quick," between heated kisses. You giggled, that soft, breathy sound that always made his heart skip, but the look in your eyes was anything but playful.

The two of you had tumbled into bed, a mess of limbs and laughter, desire taking over. You were on top of him, moving slow and deliberate, the way he liked it. Your skin glistened with sweat, the heat of the room wrapping around your bodies, and he couldn’t think of anything except how much he needed you in that moment. Every touch, every kiss felt like it was branding him, marking him as yours. His hands roamed your body, fingers tracing the curves he knew so well, and still, every time felt like the first.

When it was over, you both lay tangled together, the scent of your exertion heavy in the air. He could feel your breath on his neck, the warmth of your skin against his. For a long while, neither of you moved, content to just exist in that perfect silence, the summer heat pressing against the windows as the world outside slowed to a standstill. You didn’t know how easily you had marked him, how deeply you had sunk your teeth into his flesh.

Hours later, he woke to find you still draped over him, your head resting on his chest, your fingers splayed over his stomach. His heart ached in the best way—this was what it meant to be yours. Every part of him, from the way he loved you to the way his mind quieted when you were near, belonged to you.

The next morning, you were sitting by the water, perched on the smooth rocks that lined the shore. The water was clear as day, a sparkling, crystal blue that seemed to go on endlessly. You were wearing that purple swimsuit he loved so much. It made his pulse quicken every time he saw you in it.

You were eating fruit—mangos and berries, the sweetness lingering on his lips as you both played cards; the deck spread out between you. Pedro loved these simple moments. The sunlight reflected off the water, casting a coppery glow over everything, and he couldn’t help but stare at you as you talked, your wet hair falling loosely around your shoulders, your eyes bright and happy.

“You’re cheating,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him as you set your cards down, suspicious.

He grinned, pretending to be offended.

“Cheating? Me? I would never.”

“You totally are,” you insisted, reaching across to poke his chest. “I know that look. You’ve got something.”

He chuckled, leaning back on his hands, his gaze sweeping over you. “I’m not cheating, cariño. I’m just better at this game than you.”

“Liar.”

It was easy between you, the banter flowing naturally as you both basked in the warmth of the sun. There was a lightness to being here, a sense of freedom that neither of you could ignore.

Everything felt right—perfect, even.

A few minutes later, you stretched lazily, setting your cards aside as you glanced toward the water. “Wanna take a swim, old man?” you teased, your eyes sparkling. “I’m hot.”

He raised an eyebrow, his heart racing just a little faster at the sight of you.

God, you were beautiful.

"Yes."

You stood, offering him your hand, and he took it, pulling himself to his feet with a grin. “Come on then,” you said, leading him toward the water, your bare feet dancing across the hot rocks.

The water was cool against his skin as you both waded in, the heat of the day melting away as you swam lazily, floating in the crystal-clear sea. He couldn’t stop watching you, the way the water glistened on your skin, the way you smiled at him, carefree and full of life.

•••

Prague felt like stepping into another time, a place woven with cobblestone streets and Gothic spires. Pedro loved it here. It suited the two of you—a city where you could get lost, but it never felt like a mistake, only an adventure. As you walked hand in hand through the narrow alleyways, your laughter echoed off the ancient stone walls.

He hadn’t been able to stop staring at you all night, captivated by the way your red lipstick caught the dim light of streetlamps, the way it stained the wine glass at dinner. It was as if the color made everything else disappear, and his attention had been stuck on your mouth, tracing the lines of your lips as you smiled, teased, and bantered with him. The playful glint in your eyes was dangerous, addictive.

“You keep calling me ‘old man’ like it’s supposed to offend me,” he teased, his voice low as you strolled down the empty streets, slightly drunk, arm looped through his.

“Well,” you said, pausing dramatically to look up at him, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “You are older. Wiser, though. Sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” he laughed. “Careful, baby, or I’ll stop giving you the benefit of my hard-earned wisdom.”

“Hard-earned wisdom, huh? Sure,” you teased, your fingers tugging gently at the fabric of his black dress shirt, your steps a little unsteady but your voice steady with danger. “Was it hard-earned the same way you’ve earned all those aches and pains?”

He groaned exaggeratedly, putting a hand to his back, pretending to wince. “See? There it is again. More ageism. You’re really hurting my feelings here.”

You couldn’t help but laugh; the sound light and free. “You don’t have feelings.”

“I do,” he replied, pulling you closer with a smirk. “But only for you.”

As you walked, your voice drifted into song, soft and playful, filling the quiet streets with warmth. He didn’t know if you realized how much those little moments, like hearing you sing absentmindedly, grounded him, made him feel like everything in the world was where it should be.

“Do you ever stop singing?” he asked, though not wanting you to stop.

“Not when I’m happy,” you said, leaning your head against his shoulder.

His chest tightened, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your hair as the city’s chill air wrapped around you both. “I like hearing it.”

When you reached Waldstein Gardens earlier that afternoon, the place had been nearly empty. The serenity of the garden, the way your footsteps echoed in the quiet, felt magical. The trees arched over the pathways, casting dappled shadows that danced as you moved through them, your laughter mingling with the rustling leaves.

At one point, you had gotten lost, but neither of you cared. It was part of the charm, part of what made being with you feel so effortless—there was never a rush, never an urgency. You wandered the gardens as though you had all the time in the world.

“Getting lost with you isn’t so bad,” he had said at one point, his hand brushing against yours.

“You’re just saying that because I have no idea where we are.”

“Maybe.” He stopped walking then, turning to face you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb grazing the corner of your mouth, smudging that perfect red lipstick ever so slightly.

“But it’s true.”

You kissed him then, in the middle of the empty path. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, and for a moment, it felt like Prague, the gardens, the world itself, existed solely to frame this moment.

Later, back in your hotel room, you laughed about how lost you had gotten, and he couldn’t stop looking at your lips, still stained that perfect red.

•••

Budapest was a dream of thermal baths and long, lazy afternoons. One day, you both spent hours soaking in the warm water, your body pressed against his, head resting on his shoulder as you floated aimlessly. He had never felt so relaxed, so completely at ease with anyone else. You were his anchor, keeping him from drifting away into his worries.

“You sing when you wash yourself,” he told you one night as you stepped out of the bathroom, hair wet and a towel wrapped around your body.

“Do I?” you asked, smiling as you pulled him close.

He nodded, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “It’s one of the best sounds in the world.”

"Any requests for my next shower?"

"Hm, maybe some Fleetwood Mac?"

"Excellent choice, señor."

•••

Amsterdam was breathtakingly beautiful, and Pedro started to feel the weight of traveling in his bones. Though he didn't care. He was too busy loving you.

You two were in a bookstore, and you were a few aisles over, browsing through a stack of Russian literature, and he could hear you muttering under your breath, something about Dostoevsky. He turned the corner and found you flipping through a copy of White Nights.

“I swear, I’m like that annoying guy who’s always like, ‘Oh, I love Dostoevsky, I’m so cool, blah blah,’” you said, half-joking but self-aware, and Pedro couldn’t help but laugh at your expression.

He leaned against the shelf, arms crossed, his smile soft and warm. “I actually read Crime and Punishment,” he said. “Surprisingly, it was a pageturner.”

“So, that makes us both annoying, huh?”

“Guess so.” He chuckled, watching as you turned your attention back to the books, eyes scanning the shelves like you were searching for a treasure hidden somewhere in the pages.

Pedro had always been drawn to sad books—melancholic stories, poems filled with longing. He didn’t know why, but they spoke to a part of him that craved depth. Maybe it was his way of dealing with his own emotions, or maybe it was just the kind of person he was.

A few minutes passed, and he found you again, holding a book in his hand. “Have you read The Master and Margarita?” he asked, handing it to you with a curious look.

You shook your head, glancing at the cover. “No, but if it’s one of your favorites, it’s going in the basket.”

You slipped it into the growing pile of books in your arms, and he smiled to himself, a little satisfied. He always felt a thrill when he introduced you to something he loved, like he was sharing a part of himself with you in a way words couldn’t quite capture.

Later that day, you found yourselves biking along the narrow streets, the cool breeze ruffling your hair. Pedro had long since gotten used to the feeling of the city under his tires, but he could still feel the fatigue of the trip settling into his bones.

You, on the other hand, were full of energy, pedaling with ease and laughing as you wove in and out of the winding paths.

“Stop, stop!” you called out, laughing as you veered toward a small ice cream stand by the water. Pedro pulled up beside you, catching his breath as you hopped off your bike, grinning like a kid.

“You want some?” you asked, eyeing the menu as if you hadn’t already decided what you were getting.

He raised an eyebrow, watching you with that look he always gave when you were being particularly cute. “You’re the one who’s always saying I’m the one with the sweet tooth.”

“Yeah, but I’m hot,” you replied, throwing him a playful glance. “Old man, you should try to keep up.”

He rolled his eyes, pretending to be offended as he got off his bike. “You know, the more you call me ‘old man,’ the less inclined I am to buy you ice cream.”

You gasped dramatically. “You wouldn’t.”

He laughed, shaking his head as you ordered two scoops of stroopwafel-flavored ice cream. The vendor handed it over, and you took a bite, closing your eyes in bliss. It was one of the things he loved about you—how you seemed to savor every little thing, even the simple joy of ice cream on a sunny afternoon.

After you had both finished, you found a bench by the canal, sitting side by side as people biked past and boats drifted lazily by. You leaned into him, your head resting on his shoulder, and Pedro wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, breathing in the faint scent of your hair mixed with the cool air of the city.

“You know, this has been one of my favorite days,” you murmured, your voice soft.

He smiled, his heart full. “Mine too.”

A few days later, Pedro stretched his legs out on the couch, wrapping them around yours, as the familiar opening scenes of The Princess Bride rolled across the screen. The rain outside was steady, a soft backdrop to the cozy warmth of the hotel room. He was in his element, leaning into the cushions with a contented grin, quoting the movie with ease.

"Farm boy, fetch me that pitcher..." he said in perfect sync with the screen, his voice low and exaggerated. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, catching the slight roll of your eyes.

“Oh my god, P, you do know every line,” you said, your voice tinged with affection as you snuggled closer, resting your head on his shoulder. "You're such a nerd."

He turned to you, a mock look of indignation on his face. “Uh, do I need to remind you of all the times you’ve made me watch Mamma Mia?” His eyebrow raised dramatically, but his tone was playful. “And each time, you quote it in its entirety—and sing all the songs. Should I get started on Dancing Queen?”

You laughed, the sound soft and light. He loved that sound. Loved that it was his ridiculous comments that brought it out of you.

"Oh, don’t even tell me you don’t love it," you fired back, grinning up at him, your finger poking his side as if daring him to deny it.

He grinned wider, shrugging a little too innocently. “Well... I may or may not have had Super Trouper stuck in my head for weeks after the last time. So thanks for that.” He shifted, planting a kiss on the top of your head, his lips lingering in your hair for a moment.

You nudged him, laughing. “I knew it. You love it. Admit it—you secretly love ABBA.”

He groaned dramatically. “Okay, fine. But only because you sing the songs better than the actual cast,” he teased, grinning as he leaned in closer, his forehead brushing yours. "Also, because Pierce Brosnan’s singing makes me feel better about my own.”

“Oh, please,” you said, laughing, “I’ve heard you sing. He's good. You? you...try.”

Pedro’s grin turned soft as he looked at you. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he murmured, his hand absentmindedly running through your hair.

The movie continued playing in the background, but it was quickly becoming an afterthought as you tangled yourself further into him. Your feet brushed against his, and he shifted slightly to wrap his arms around you tighter.

"Honestly," he started again, "I don't know how you do it. Mamma Mia, what, three times a month?"

“Hey, ABBA is universal,” you shot back, poking him again.

Pedro chuckled, leaning back into the cushions.

“Alright, alright.”

He kissed the tip of your nose, and you scrunched it.

“Do you think we’re ever gonna get through a movie without this much banter?” you asked, grinning as you broke the tender moment.

Pedro laughed.“Absolutely not. And I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You rolled your eyes again, settling deeper into his chest as the rain continued to patter against the window, and for a while, you both fell into a comfortable silence, the movie continuing on without needing your attention.

But then, just as the movie’s most iconic scene approached, Pedro couldn’t resist.

“As you wish,” he said, quoting Westley once more, his voice low and affectionate, his lips brushing the top of your head again.

You groaned, half-laughing. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah,” Pedro murmured, his grin softening into something more tender. “But I know you wouldn't have it any other way.”

"You're right for once."

•••

Lisbon was hot. The kind of heat that makes everything slow down—the air, the conversations, the drinks. Pedro loved it. The golden sunlight bouncing off the tiled walls, the lazy sound of street musicians playing as you wandered through the city together. His friends had joined you both here for a bit, filling the days with laughter and easy company.

Tonight, you were all crammed into a small bar. He was on his third cold beer, the condensation dripping down his fingers as he took a slow sip, savoring the moment. Every now and then, he’d feel your gaze on him, and when he looked back, there you were—teasing him about yet another ridiculous shirt he’d thrown on.

“Is this one an improvement over yesterday’s?” he asked, voice full of mock innocence. He gestured to the vibrant, swirling orange and pink pattern across his chest.

You squinted, a grin spreading across your face as you leaned closer. “It’s loud. I’ll give you that. If we get lost, I can just look for a neon sign with arms.”

He snorted, setting his beer down, and casually placed his hand on your knee. The conversation around the table swirled—friends joking, sharing stories, laughing—but his focus kept drifting back to you. The way your skin glowed under the low light, the way your shoulders were bare, save for that thin scarf you’d tied as a top. Every time you leaned forward to laugh, the knot on your back shifted slightly, and he found himself tracing the lines of it with his eyes, admiring the curve of your spine.

You said his name a lot lately. In that soft, familiar way you did when you were teasing him, or when you wanted his attention, or when you were just... comfortable. Every time you said it, it sent a small jolt of tenderness through him.

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, letting his lips linger for just a second longer than necessary. The skin was warm from the Lisbon sun, and the smell of your perfume mixed with the salty sea breeze.

One afternoon, the group had convinced you both to take a pottery class. He hadn’t been sure about it at first—clay and his hands weren’t usually a good match—but seeing the excited look on your face when you found the studio made it worth it.

You’d both sat at a long table with his friends, laughing as you tried to shape bowls and cups out of the spinning clay. Your first attempt looked more like a lumpy rock than anything functional.

“Is that supposed to be a mug, or are you sculpting an alien egg?” he teased, leaning over to inspect your disaster of a creation.

He saw you glance at his perfectly shaped little vase and pretended to look offended.

“I’m going for abstract, thank you very much. It’s called art.”

He chuckled, reaching over to smooth out one of the many dents in your clay. “Uh-huh. Very avant-garde of you, Picasso.”

But as much as he teased you, he caught your sneaking glances, a small smile playing on your lips as you focused on your own project. He loved that look, the one you got when you were completely in the moment. It was one of the intangible things about you that had him wrapped up in this feeling—this deep, undeniable love for you that grew stronger with each passing day.

Then, there was that morning with the guitar.

You knew he could play a little—enough to get by—but since he’d be playing in the second season of The Last of Us, he wanted to get better.

Naturally, you’d offered to teach him. The two of you had sat on the balcony of your Lisbon apartment, overlooking the orange-tiled rooftops, the sunlight leaving soft shadows over the city. You had your guitar across your lap, showing him some basic chords.

He was fumbling through a chord progression when you placed your hands over his, your body pressing up behind him to guide his fingers. He could feel your breath on his neck, the closeness making it hard to focus on the strings.

“C’mon, you’ve got this,” you said, your voice encouraging but playful. “It’s not that hard.”

He let out a frustrated laugh, leaning back into you slightly. “Says the musical genius over here.”

You laughed, your lips brushing against his ear. “You’re just distracted,” you teased, your hands still over his, guiding his fingers through the chord.

“Maybe I am,” he muttered, grinning as he strummed again, this time hitting the right notes. “But I think I’m getting the hang of it now.”

You leaned closer, your chin resting on his shoulder, and he couldn’t help but steal a quick glance at your face. “See? I’m a great teacher.”

He shifted slightly, turning his head so your faces were almost touching. “Or maybe I’m just a great student.”

“Don’t get cocky, Pascal.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple, feeling that same warmth spread through him again. These moments—when it was just the two of you, tangled up in something as simple as learning a song—they felt infinite. He knew he’d carry them with him long after this trip was over.

Back in the bar, as the night stretched on, Pedro sat back and took it all in. His friends, his drink, you. It was the small, intangible things that made him love you more each day. Every once in a while, he’d lean in to place another kiss on your bare shoulder, just because he could. Just because he was happy.

•••

Pedro leaned back in his chair, eyes half-closed, as the sun dipped behind the whitewashed buildings of Santorini. The sky was a vivid pink, painted like a postcard, and the sea below shimmered in a way that made it look almost unreal. You sat beside him on the balcony, sharing a bottle of white wine, your feet propped on the railing. The light caught your face, and Pedro couldn’t help but stare, mesmerized by how the golden hue played off your skin, tracing the curves of your cheekbones, catching in your eyes.

You turned to him, smiling as you took a sip from your glass. “What?” you asked softly, your voice teasing.

He shook his head, smiling back. “Nothing. Just... I’m watching the sunset.”

You laughed, the sound soft and melodic, filling the space between you. “Pedro, the sunset’s over there.” You motioned toward the horizon, but he didn’t budge.

“I know,” he said, his eyes still fixed on you. “I’m watching this sunset.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but your cheeks flushed, and Pedro swore he could spend every night like this.

"You're so cheesy."

Later that night, as you lay together in bed, Pedro traced the tan lines on your back, his fingers lightly brushing the places where the sun had kissed your skin. You had fallen asleep draped over him, your breath soft and even, and for a moment, he just watched you, trying to memorize the way you looked right then—beautiful, peaceful, perfect. He wondered if you knew what a cure you were, how you’d managed to stitch up the parts of him he didn’t even know were broken.

A few days later, you dragged him to a small, lively bar tucked away in the maze of Santorini’s winding streets. “Someone told me about this place at breakfast,” you said, pulling him by the hand. “They have fun cocktails, I heard.”

Pedro raised an eyebrow, but let you lead him. “Are you sure that's all?” he teased, his voice low and warm.

“Yes, yes,” you flashed him a grin, that wicked little smile that always made his chest tighten.

The bar was relaxed but bustling, filled with the soft murmur of people talking over drinks. Pedro wore a loose white linen shirt, feeling a bit too warm but too comfortable to care. You, on the other hand, looked like you belonged in a dream—a short, flowy white dress that clung to your body just right, showing off your legs in a way that drove him wild. All his thoughts kept coming back to you in that dress. He couldn’t stop looking. Every time you shifted, crossed your legs, or leaned in to talk, his mind wandered to how good you looked in it.

As the two of you sat at a table in the center, sipping cocktails and bantering over something stupid, Pedro noticed the energy in the room shift. The lights dimmed, and a woman—likely in her 60s, with long white hair and a colorful dress—stepped to the front of the room.

“Good evening, everyone!” she said, her thick accent cutting through the crowd. “If you’ve been here before, you know the drill. And if you haven’t, welcome to the karaoke section of the night!”

Pedro’s eyes went wide. He turned to you immediately.

“Oh no,” you muttered, pulling your chair back. “I had no idea—do you want to leave?”

For a moment, he thought you were about to escape, but instead, the woman with the mic suddenly appeared at your side, handing it to you. You grinned at Pedro, your eyes twinkling with mischief, shrugging as if to say, what can you do?

Pedro let out a laugh, shaking his head. “You’ve ambushed me,” he said, grinning as you stood up and made your way toward the front.

The crowd cheered as you started to sing Honey, Honey, and Pedro leaned back in his chair, watching you in awe. You were working the room like it was your own personal stage, your white dress flowing as you danced in your sandals and smiled, effortlessly captivating everyone.

As the music swelled, you pointed at him during the line, “You look like a movie star,” your eyes locking with his. Pedro played along, pointing at himself with an exaggerated look of confusion, mouthing, “Me?”

God, you were driving him crazy.

The whole room was watching you, and they had their phones out, and he loved it. Loved that this moment would live forever, likely plastered across social media by morning. But more than anything, he loved that you were his, that you could light up any room and still make him feel like the only person there.

When the song ended, the crowd erupted in applause, and you took a few pictures with some of the guests before sauntering back to the table, sitting down across from him like nothing had happened. Pedro was still grinning, his heart beating fast from watching you, completely enamored.

“Not bad,” you teased, sipping your drink, pretending like you hadn’t just stolen the show.

Pedro leaned across the table, lowering his voice like it was a secret meant just for you. “You’re killing me here, you know that?”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Killing you, how?”

“You... in that dress,” he said softly, his eyes dropping to your legs before flicking back to your face. “Dancing, in that dress. Singing. It’s unfair, really. I’m trying to keep it together over here.”

You laughed, your foot brushing against his under the table. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you said, voice dripping with faux innocence. “Should I have picked a more modest song or…dress?”

Pedro smirked, leaning in even closer, his hand reaching across the table to rest on yours. “You know what’s comfortable?” he whispered, his voice low and teasing. “The fact that you’re going home with me tonight.”

Your eyes sparkled, and Pedro knew that look all too well. “Well, sir,” you said with a grin, “then I guess I’ll have to make it worth your while.”

Pedro chuckled, squeezing your hand gently. “You already do,” he whispered.

•••

Amalfi Coast was like a postcard come to life. The sea carried out before him, sparkling blue. Both of you spent hours on the beach, the sun hot on your skin. You wore a red bikini that left little to the imagination, and every time he glanced at you, he felt something stir in his chest. There were parts of your body, those sun-kissed curves, that felt too sacred to stare at for too long, yet he couldn’t look away.

You could not be held responsible for his reaction to you, for the cry of your sunburnt skin against the bright red bikini.

When you both returned to the hotel room after a long day, you ordered a bucket of ice. Pedro didn’t question it, watching you from the bed as you moved about the room with that effortless grace you had. When the door clicked shut, you emptied the ice into a small towel and handed it to him.

“Will you do my back, baby?” you asked, voice soft but certain. Of course, he would. How could he deny you anything?

He pressed the cold towel to your sunburnt skin, your body arching slightly under his touch. “You should have stayed in the shade,” he teased, though his voice was filled with tenderness.

"You know how stubborn I am."

He wasn’t sure he had ever felt so content, so completely grounded in a moment. You were his fix, keeping him tethered to this world, to the present, to himself.

Later that night, with the cool breeze from the sea drifting in through the open window, Pedro pulled you close, pressing soft kisses to the places he had soothed with ice earlier. You moaned softly, and he felt that familiar warmth spread through him.

In those moments, he wants to give you everything—his time, his love, his energy. He hopes you take it. He wants to be yours completely, to listen to all of your musings, that you write him a thousand songs and letters, to be your safe space, just as you were his.

•••

He was nominated for an Emmy while you were in Rome, and he could tell you had never been more proud of him. You tackled him in the hotel room when the news broke, showering him with kisses, his laughter echoing through the space.

“Mi amor, you're going to kill me,” he laughed, though his arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly.

“I don’t care,” you beamed, your hands cupping his face. “You deserve this so much.”

October 28, 2023

Los Angeles, California

This week was etched into your memory as the final crescendo to a whirlwind of Halloween festivities. LA had been alive with spooky energy the entire month, and tonight was no different.

You had spent the past week with Pedro, hopping from one Halloween event to another, attending parties, and trying to outdo each other with costumes. A few nights ago, you went to Halloween Horror Nights with his sister, Lux, and it had been a blast. You kept things simple with jeans and a t-shirt, but the thrill of the night was anything but.

The three of you had navigated the maze of haunted houses, clinging to each other whenever something jumped out at you. Lux had led the way, fearless, while Pedro and you exchanged shrieks and laughter.

"Okay, next haunted house, I'm going first," Pedro had said, puffing out his chest.

"You said that last time, and yet..." you teased, raising an eyebrow.

Lux laughed, shaking her head. "Don't let him fool you, he's jumped every time."

Pedro gasped dramatically. "Betrayed by my own sister. I thought we had a pact."

The whole night had been filled with that kind of lighthearted banter, and by the end, the three of you were breathless from laughing, your sides aching as you relived the best scares over churros and hot chocolate.

But tonight was different. Tonight was the final party of the season, the one you and Pedro were hosting at your LA home. The living room had been transformed with cobwebs and orange fairy lights, pumpkins scattered around with flickering candles inside. The theme for your costumes had been a matter of heated debate all week, but in the end, you’d settled on something so ridiculous it was perfect.

You, in a buttoned-up suit and black tie, with a fedora perched on your head, were Oppenheimer.

Pedro, in black pants, a black shirt with white fringe, a pink bandana draped around his neck, and a white cowboy hat—was Cowboy Ken.

Together, you were, you guessed it: Barbenheimer.

For hours, you floated around the party, telling people, “We’re Barbenheimer!” while Pedro chimed in, “Or more like Kenenheimer, don’t you think?”

The whole night you were drifting from conversation to conversation, catching up with your girlfriends. All your old dramas are revived that night, and it is so sweet. But eventually, you found yourself alone in the kitchen, searching for a moment of peace away from the noise. You opened the fridge to grab another drink when you heard the familiar sound of Pedro's boots behind you.

"Well, hello there," he said, setting down two empty beer bottles on the island. His voice was soft, but there was a playful glint in his eyes that you recognized immediately.

You turned around, leaning against the counter with a smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, hi, baby.”

You took a step towards him, your eyes shamelessly raking over his cowboy getup. He really had committed to the role, he hadn't taken that hat off all night.

Pedro noticed your gaze, smirking as he adjusted his hat. “What are you up to, Oppie? Did you need a drink, or are you just here to admire the view?”

You chuckled, crossing the kitchen to stand in front of him. “You know,” you began, running a hand up the front of his shirt, “when you decided on Cowboy Ken, I was a bit skeptical. I thought you were going to look funny…”

“Oh yeah?”

“But it turns out,” you continued, letting your voice drop, “it’s actually really hot, mister.” Your fingers trailed slowly over the lapel of his shirt, down to his belt.

Pedro tilted his head, his smirk widening into a full grin. “Is that so?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, eyes gleaming. “I guess I have a thing for cowboys now.”

He chuckled, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your cheek as he spoke. “Good to know,” he whispered. His hand came up to rest on your waist, pulling you in just a little tighter.

You laughed softly, the sound muffled as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. The smell of him, that mix of cologne and something distinctly Pedro, filled your senses.

The morning after the party, you woke up to a flood of notifications. He was fast asleep next to you. Sleepily grabbing your phone, you scrolled through the pictures from last night, stopping at the one you'd posted of you and Pedro in your costumes.

The caption: "Save a horse, ride a Ken."

It had been quite a hit. People were already loving the playfulness of it, but then you noticed Pedro’s comment beneath the post. Of course, he couldn’t resist adding fuel to the fire.

Pedro had written: "How about we skip the horse and go straight to the riding? 😘🐎"

You burst out laughing, shaking your head at the screen. It was so him. And of course, the comment section below his was already blowing up with people reacting insanely to it.

This man.

December 22, 2023

Santiago, Chile

Christmas in Chile was supposed to be calm—a peaceful, family-filled holiday with Pedro’s relatives. You'd imagined quiet dinners, soft music, and some traditional Chilean dishes. But in typical Pedro fashion, things didn’t stay quiet for long.

It started innocently enough. The two of you had decided to explore the local market, weaving through the crowds, hand in hand. The air was warm and fragrant with the scent of grilled meats and roasted chestnuts, the hustle of people bartering, chatting, and living. Pedro was telling you something funny—some story about when he was a kid and his brother dared him to climb a tree.

You weren’t really listening, though, because your eyes kept catching on the colorful stalls and bright trinkets. It was the perfect, chaotic slice of Chilean life.

Then, out of nowhere, it happened. One minute Pedro was laughing, and the next, his foot caught a loose cobblestone, and down he went. Time slowed for a moment, and all you could do was gasp as you saw him hit the ground, his arm awkwardly twisted beneath him.

“Pedro!” You shrieked, rushing to his side, heart hammering in your chest.

He winced as you kneeled beside him, your hands hovering over him like you weren’t sure where to touch. His face was scrunched up, but he looked up at you with that familiar grin, trying to calm you down despite the clear pain written across his features. “Baby, it’s fine. Calm down.”

But it wasn’t fine. His right arm looked wrong, and even though he tried to brush it off, you knew better. Panic twisted your stomach, and before you knew it, you were helping him up, heading straight to the hospital.

The next few hours were a blur of waiting rooms and x-rays, and you held your breath every time Pedro winced. By the time they had him in an arm sling, you’d run through every possible scenario in your head, imagining the worst. But Pedro, as always, was trying to make light of the situation, his laughter filling the otherwise sterile room.

When you finally sat beside him, a mix of relief and exasperation washed over you. “Do you want me to kiss it better?” you teased, leaning over, your earlier panic slowly dissolving.

Pedro smirked, eyes sparkling despite the bandages. “Maybe later,” he said with a wink, his tone low, full of innuendo.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Even in pain, even with his arm in a sling, Pedro was Pedro—never one to let anything dampen his spirits for long.

A couple of days after the initial chaos settled, you found yourselves at his family’s home. Pedro’s sling stood out against the twinkling Christmas lights, but he didn’t seem to care. And neither did you, because as you sat together, surrounded by family, you felt an overwhelming sense of warmth. Even if your quiet holiday had taken an unexpected turn, you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

December 31st, 2023

Los Angeles, California

New Year’s Eve felt different this time around—different in the best way possible. There was a softness to the night. The party swirled with music and movement, friends mingling and dancing in the flicker of colorful lights. But even with all that, your attention was fully drawn to him.

Pedro looked ridiculously adorable, even with his arm in a sling from that incident, and to top it off, he wore this silly pointy party hat that somehow made him even cuter. Every time you glanced at him, your heart warmed a little more. He had been a trooper through the night, navigating conversations and laughter with his usual charm, but always with that one lazy smile he reserved just for you.

After a few drinks, you found yourself perched on his lap, leaning against him like it was the most natural thing in the world. His left arm, the one still functional, wrapped securely around your waist, holding you close. You were rambling about something silly, pestering him like you often did, his brown eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Understood," he said, his fingers tapped lightly against your lips, a gesture that you had come to love.

You caught his fingers, pretending to bite them before leaning in for a kiss. His breath brushed against your skin, warm and familiar, and despite how long you’d been together, every kiss still made your heart race a little.

The song playing in the background, Do Friends Fall in Love?, fitted perfectly.

His hand slid gently down your back, making you shiver at the contact, his thumb tracing soft, lazy circles on your hip.

“You think you’ve got me all figured out,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate, his breath ghosting over your lips.

You smiled, laughing softly as you nuzzled closer. “You’re an open book, Pascal,” you teased, rolling your eyes dramatically, though your words were laced with affection. “Easy to read.”

He raised an eyebrow, giving you that half-smile, the one that always made your heart flip. It was a smile full of challenge, like he knew something you didn’t but wasn’t about to tell you.

“Oh yeah?” he muttered, leaning in closer, his lips grazing your ear, making you blush even in the warmth of the crowded room.

The night carried on around you, the music mixing with the hum of laughter and conversations, but your attention never wavered from him. The countdown to midnight began, the excitement in the room rising as everyone gathered with glasses in hand, but you were only aware of the way Pedro’s thumb traced patterns on your thigh, the way his eyes softened as they looked into yours.

“Five… four…”

The rest of the party blurred, voices fading into the background as the two of you stayed locked in that moment.

“Three… two…”

Pedro’s eyes never left yours, and in the space between heartbeats, the room fell away. His gaze was warm, intense, and full of love—so much that it felt like you could melt under it.

“One!”

Cheers erupted around you, glasses clinking, people shouting “Happy New Year!” But you barely heard any of it because Pedro’s lips were on yours, warm, gentle, and full of everything that made your heart feel like it was soaring.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, you couldn’t help but smile, resting your forehead against his, feeling the soft tickle of his breath against your skin. “Happy New Year, baby,” you whispered, your voice filled with affection.

He smiled back, eyes twinkling with that familiar warmth. “Happy New Year, mi amor,” he replied, his voice low and tender, the words settling between you like a promise for the year to come.

a/n: alright so this was so nice and fun to write. please pleaseee let me know your thoughts besties!!! and don't forget to reblog and like. much love <3

next and final part!

[writing-in-the-impala]

Secret Smokes (Part 14)

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, drinking, teacher-student relationship, angst, jealousy, fluff, smut.

Word Count: 2400

A/N: I haven't had time to proofread this one but I wanted to get it out in celebration of it being Remus's birthday today. Happy Birthday Moony.

 | SERIES MASTER LIST (All chapters) |

Previous Chapter, Part 14, Next Chapter

The trees outside were becoming greener, and the air a bit warmer. Remus and you would even sometimes take walks outside together to enjoy the sunshine, obviously distanced and acting appropriately. Acting appropriately was beginning to drain you as the honeymoon stages of being with Remus began to wear off.

January was filled with the thrill of being together and sneaking around, you got comfortable in February and now it was March. You were entering your third month of being exclusive, but not being anything, spending evenings together but barely ever sleeping in the same bed. No matter how much you enjoyed it you couldn't hide it was all becoming slightly draining. You longed for a date, to go the theatre like Remus once promised, to go for a walk and hold hands. To kiss in a public space.

"Any plans for the weekend?" You asked Remus as you strolled through the grass in the morning on Friday, you asked in the hope of finally going on a date again.

"I have a meeting with some members of the order, apparently there's rumours of activity between death eaters" He kept his hands firmly in his pockets. "What's your plans?" He looked at you with a gentle look of admiration as he spoke.

"I was thinking you could take me around London?" You asked slightly nervously.

"I'm sorry, not this weekend. There's too many people from the order around right now. Besides we shouldn't speak about this in public." His body was closed off as he looked around and spoke in a hush tone, it used to thrill you the secrecy, but it was beginning to hurt.

"When can we? You promised me the theatre." You said and he smiled gently.

"As soon as possible."

"When's that?" You pushed and Remus shook his head. "When it's less risky."

"Fine can I at least come officially meet Sirius?" You asked.

"I would like nothing more,"

"But?" You interrupted

"But, the order operates out of his house, and there's been more meetings recently, it's not safe for us to be hanging out there." He explained.

"What about your cottage? Or is that too risky too?" You tried your luck.

"That's actually a good idea, but," You rolled your eyes at Remus again. "I need time to make it habitable, it's a mess there. I'll go this weekend and depending on the progress soon we can go together." He explained and you nodded satisfied with getting at least somewhere. He looked around before continuing. "Tomorrow, after my meeting I'd love to see you. If that's okay? Although I don't know what time I will be back it would mean a lot to me if you were free." He almost whispered.

"Of course, if you won't take me out on a date at least we can have one here." You said and he offered a weak smile.

"Now tell me, how's your preparation for exams going?" He changed the subject now speaking in a louder tone and it felt more like spending time with Lupin than Remus. You enjoyed all sides of Remus J Lupin. You enjoyed learning his habits and quirks, you would sit in your DADA lesson and watch him intensely as he would tap his fingers on his wand when he was nervous. You could quite define what was going on between you both, on one hand he was very reserved, he wanted for you to come over to spend time together and then for you to leave, like you were a way for him to have company. On the other hand he was passionate, he talked about his dreams of showing you the world, about how he saw the future it made you feel like maybe you were special to him. You spent the day alone waiting for Remus to come back, every few hours you would walk past his office to find out if he was back yet no sign of him. It was getting late and you were begging to believe he won't come back today and you wasted your evening waiting for him.

Finally around nine pm as you walked back to your dorm from his office you saw him walking in your direction towards his office, you smiled at the sight of him. He was very dressed up in a nice shirt and blazer, he looked like he really cared about his appearance today as he went to the meeting. You didn't really understand why he got so dressed up to see the order or why his "meeting" lasted all Saturday. He greeted you in the corridor with a nod and you turned around walking side by side to his office. "Hello Professor." You said with a playful tone.

"Hi Y/N, I know it's Saturday but do you mind coming to have a quick discussion with me in the office?" He asked with a smirk on his face.

"My pleasure." You said as he held the door open for you and you stepped inside.

"Hello my dear." He said as soon as the door closed and he leaned in to kiss you. "Sorry for running so late, everyone couldn't stop talking I left as soon as I could." He explained as you walked up the stairs to his office.

"You look really nice." You pointed out.

"I've got to impress you, how else would I keep you interested in boring old me." He said, at this moment you clicked the thing you could smell was fire whiskey, he had been drinking.

"Do you often drink at important meetings?" You asked, a sting of jealousy on your tongue.

"Only when they run late," He explained as he poured two drinks and you sat down.

"I waited for you like an idiot all evening." You explained feeling upset by how you ruined your day waiting while he was drinking and dressing up for a meeting.

"I'm sorry, dear, I tried to leave as soon as the meeting finished but everyone wanted to talk, they wanted to talk to me, which rarely happens, you know how I talk and people lose interest well this one time when I wanted them to not listed they did listen. But I wanted to come back to you this whole evening. Anyway we're here now and I can bore you instead of them." He gave you a soft kiss on your cheek as he sat down next to you.

"So tell me about your cottage." You said making yourself comfortable on the couch, with your legs crossed and your drink in hand.

"What do you want to know?" He re-adjusted himself to face you as he sat on the opposite end of the sofa and music played in the background, he had his favourite vinyl on which filled the room with positivity even if your conversations didn't start on a good note.

"I don't know, we always just talk about music and me, I feel like I barely know you."

"I'm an open book."

"That's a lie."

"What do you want to know?" He said gently ignoring your remark.

"Did you grow up there?" You snapped.

"In the cottage? No, god, no." He snapped back instantly looking down at his glass with the last three words.

"So where did you grow up?"

"Everywhere, we moved around a lot because of my condition. Listen Y/N I would rather not talk about this today. Ask me any other day and I'll tell you, today I want to listen to some records, hold you in my arms and sip some expensive whiskey." He said putting an arm around you and pulling you closer.

"So you'll speak to others all night but all you want is to sit next to me and listen to music?"

"I also want to kiss you." He said planting a light kiss on your lips making you blush.

"Remus, I feel like you don't want to let me into your life."

"You are in my life, dear. I spend more time with you than anyone else. The last time I was around someone so much it was Sirius and I was your age."

"Yet you won't even let me meet Sirius." You left his embrace sitting on the opposite side of the sofa.

"Y/N, we spoke about this..." he said sitting up himself.

"What are we?"

"I don't know." He said slightly defeated.

"Are we dating?"

"No." He replied calmly but instantly without time to even process the question .

"But we're exclusive?" You asked after a moment of thinking

"Yes." Once again instantly.

"Why?"

"Because I can't bear the thought of anyone else kissing you."

"Why won't you date me?"

"Because I'm your teacher." He didn't break eye contact.

"Bullshit. You've crossed that line too many times for it to matter, why?"

"Because it's me. Y/N, I wouldn't want to curse anyone with me, especially not you. You don't understand what I am..."

"I do Remus, and I don't care so drop this self destructive attitude and let yourself feel happy."

"I want you to feel happy!" He almost shouted but controlled himself. "I am sacrificing my job for you to be happy-"

"Yes because you don't get any enjoyment out of it, you're just having sex with me and inviting me over for my enjoyment." You snarked back and he rested his head in his hand as he massaged his temple trying to find the right words to say.

"Y/N, you know what I mean. I care about you, I am smitten by you. But it would be selfish of me to decide to date you to call you mine. You're a young witch, you have so much potential. I have to change jobs before people realise my condition, I am always moving, I'm not safe, and I'm not safe to be around. I want to keep you safe and happy, I don't want to ruin your future by people finding out you're dating not only your teacher but a werwolf."

"Selfish is you not giving me a chance. Do you know what would make me happy? If you held my hand. The day you took me to the British Museum was one of the best days I've ever had, I was so happy, you can offer me happiness but you decide not to. You would know all this if you weren't too busy feeling sorry for yourself to notice." You now raised your voice a little bit too much.

"This isn't how I wanted this evening to go." He simply said looking down at his feet almost defeated.

"I'm sorry but you can't keep running from this conversation Lupin it's March, am I just your plaything or do you hate yourself so much that you truly won't allow yourself to feel okay for a moment?"

"Dear, can we just come back to this tomorrow when you're more calm and I'm more sober?" He asked with a soft tone that contrasted your own.

"Maybe I should go." You said standing up and gathering your belongings.

"Dear-" he began as he stood up and followed you towards the door.

"No Remus, I'm not going to allow you to hurt me with your mistaken nobility, the worst part is you truly think you're doting the right thing." You said emotions getting the best of you.

"Y/N. Please stay." He placed his hand on the door to stop you from opening it.

"Why? Why are you so desperate for me to stay when you won't talk to me about anything real."

"Because it's my birthday..." he said and it hit you like a wall of bricks.

"Remus I'm so sorry-" you began but he seemed dismissive.

"Actually I believe it may be best if you do leave," Remus said letting go of the wall and walking to sit back down, downing the rest of his drink and closing his eyes as he sat there not looking your way.

"Yes I should go, we should go. Let's go to London."

"What?" He shot a confused look at you.

"Let's go, what are we doing wasting away here? Do you really want to spend your birthday sitting here like every other evening? Or do you want to celebrate?"

"I don't celebrate my birthday, I just don't want to be alone this year."

"Why isn't Sirius here?"

"Because I already saw him, they bought out a cake and sang me happy birthday at the meeting. I didn't like the attention but it was nice if Sirius to organise it, but I told them I just want to sit at home today."

"No let's celebrate!" You insisted sitting down next to him and putting hands on his knee.

"I told you I don't want to I just want to sit here and have a nice, normal, evening with you." He said sternly, his body stiff.

"Remus, why didn't you tell me it's your birthday?"

"Because I didn't want you to react like this, it's not important, I didn't want a cake, I didn't want people singing happy birthday, I just wanted to sit with you here and feel normal and happy." He explained it felt like he was lecturing you.

"I don't understand..."

"No you wouldn't would you?" He stood up moving your hand off his knee and walking away to go top up his glass before he continued speaking. "I didn't want to be reminded another year has passed, another year where there no cure, another year where each month is a curse, another year my mother is dead, my friends are dead. Another year closer to loosing my father, to loosing Sirius and another job. What is so fun about celebrating this?"

"Because it's about celebrating the person you are." You emphasised walking over to him, you stood in front of him looking up at him hoping he would kiss you as you moved up your him standing on your toes.

"There's nothing to celebrate about me." He said walking past you to sit on his office chair. You followed right behind him.

"Yes there is Remus. You're amazing, do you really think I'd be waiting for you all evening if you weren't worth celebrating." You moved in closer invading his personal space and straddling him on his desk chair. His body shifted below you as he cleared your throat, you could feel his penis twitch as he was begging to get hard. "I'm sorry Y/N, I think you should leave." He said almost whispering. You looked into his eyes for a moment before storming out. "Self destructive asshole" you murmured as you slammed his office door behind you.

NEXT CHAPTER | More stuff I wrote

A/N: sorry for the angst I had to do it.

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[nolita-fairytale]

burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter thirteen

summary: luca visits his mom, while you deal with the aftermath of aiko's funeral.

warnings: fluff, angst, grief, death, conversations about divorce, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the storyline of the bear.

word count: 4.5k

listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist

a/n: well folks, this is the final chapter of 'burn your life down.' what a beautiful journey we've all been on together. i swear, this was only supposed to be a headcanon, then a few chapters maybe, and then 46.5k words later... thank you again and again if you read, commented, reblogged, or screamed at me in gifs because this story quite literally took over my life. i will be releasing a 'behind the scenes'/director's cut post, a few headcanons about the kimuras and the mikkelson twins, and want to write more for these two. so... what do you want to see them do next?

in the meantime, let's go get carmy married in "don't want to walk alone."

part twelve | masterlist

The clang of spoons against chipped mugs that date back to his primary school days feels comforting and familiar. Luca smiles to himself, dropping another sugar cube into his tea, using his teaspoon to mix it in as he listens to his mother make a sharp pivot away from her previous subject. 

“Anyways, it’s not that I don’t love a spontaneous visit home, but we can’t ignore the elephant in the room, love,” his mother prompts him, finally done with dancing around the small talk her son’s have engaged in for the last thirty minutes.

“This girl, Luca,” she continues, sending him a look that says ‘you’re not getting out this one.’ “You haven’t brought a girl home in… god knows how long.”

“I-,” Luca begins, a smile on his lips that’s contagious. “It’s-, it’s not like that mom.”

He’s not sure what he’s supposed to say: that he’s hopelessly in love and that he hasn’t said anything yet because even though he wants nothing more than to shout it from the rooftops, that you’re here in London for a funeral and not to meet him mum?

“Well, darling. Then what is it like?” his mother asks him with a quirk of an eyebrow. 

Luca hesitates, wanting to be strategic with how he explains this because the love he feels for you really is extraordinary. But he doesn’t want to jump the gun either. Because what if it all falls apart and he’s spoken too soon? You did just lose your mother-in-law, and he’d rather introduce you to his mum when you both are ready. 

Finally, Luca decides what he’d like to say, returning his attention to his mother before replying with:

“She’s special… She's really special to me.”

His mother laughs, because although her son seems to be cautiously tiptoeing around some kind of imaginary fine line, the truth is written all over his face. 

It’s in the way the corners of his lips turn up when she’s mentioned you. It’s in his shy nature and eagerness to avoid the subject. It’s in the way her son’s undeniable coyness, as she bridges the subject, that tells her that he’s found his heart. 

“Oh I know that look. You’re in love,” Luca’s mother declares, reminding Luca that she really does see right through him. 

“Do you think she’s the one?’ 

Luca sighs, turning the idea over in his head. It’s almost as if he hasn’t let himself feel it, hasn’t let himself think too hard about it, but the blush that runs across his cheeks gives him away. 

“I sure hope so, mum,” Luca answers, honestly. 

“Well,” his mother replies, smugly, as if to remind her son that she’s always right when it comes to him. “I’d like to meet her,”

“Mum, I-,” Luca begins, before pausing once more, suddenly overcome with the desire to fulfill her wishes. “It’s just… we’re here for a funeral is all.”

“And that means the two of you can’t stop by for a cup of tea?” his mother asks, haphazardly. 

“I’ll ask,” Luca promises, firmly. 

“I mean, what’s the hold up, my love?” she asks again, and it’s almost as if Luca knows she isn’t expecting an answer. 

“Right,” he mumbles in agreement, something distant in his voice. 

And while Luca wants nothing more than to be patient with you, for the both of you to make this decision together, the irrefutable pressure he feels from his mother’s question seems to create a sense of urgency that takes root.  As it begins to spiral out of control, his mind filled with thoughts of doubt, his mother’s question echoes in his head: 

What’s the hold up?

Surely you could manage just one visit before returning to Copenhagen, right?

Luca watches his mother take a sip from her teacup, his mind beginning to wander to earlier today, as she goes on about a recent neighborhood happening. As brave of a face as he’s been putting on, it was odd, seeing the family you used to belong to. And it’s not as if, with the divorce, that all just went away. He knows you’re still close with Astrid and the fact that you and Joe aren’t mortal enemies, seeing the two of you together earlier today, was harder to stomach than he imagined. 

He can’t help but be filled with feelings of jealousy – jealous of how close you still are to the Kimurs, irrationally nervous that you and Joe seem to still have such a positive relationship, envious that he got to love you first. His reaction to his mother’s question is just a reflection back to him of his own worries, his own impatience, his own insecurities.

And Luca can’t help but wonder:

What would it mean if you weren’t ready to meet his mum?

-------------------------------

“I hope it’s not too late to set my demons straight. I know i made you wait, but how much can you take?” – kendrick lamar, ‘die hard’

You decide to take the long way home, walking off the afternoon, surprised to find how deep of sadness that still remains buried in your belly. Of course you expected to be sad, to be filled with grief over the loss of your former mother-in-law, but it’s something else, the bittersweetness of closure that’s left you feeling so heavy. 

It’s not that you’ve missed Joe – not in that way at least. 

But as you sat next to him at the neighborhood pub you’ve been to with him more times than you can count, it became more and more evident that he is no longer your Joe – and hasn’t been for a long time now. 

You recall just a few of the things you remember about him that reminded you of this: the way his dark curls seemed wilder, messier, than you’d seen them in a long time, that his five o’ clock shadow that used to feel so rough against your lips looked unfamiliar now and how much you’ve forgotten the way the rough texture laid against the soft skin of his face, how his shoulders slumped with a burden you know is too heavy to bear. 

When he’d told you all about his new job, it’s as if the elaborate portrait of his life that he’d painted for you began to unfold right in front of you. Only this time, as you listen, you come to realize that it’s been painted with brush strokes that weren’t yours, with colors you don't recognize, making your revelation clearer and clearer:

Joe has built a life without you – one that you don’t fit into anymore, at least not in the same way – and you’ve done the same. 

Even though you left on a high note, at peace with Joe, reconnected with the Kimuras, and free to begin your next chapter, it feels like your heart is in pieces, reeling from the emotional whiplash of endings and beginnings. 

And you can’t seem to stop crying, letting the tears run down your face with every step you take towards your temporary residence. 

As you approach the hotel, riding the elevator up to you and Luca’s room, you’re surprised to find him more jovial than you expected. It’s not like you expected him to be sad – this isn’t his loss to grieve after all, and you’re glad that it seems like he’d had a good visit with his mum – but it feels jarring, like you’re not sure how to meet him there as you continue to sort through your thoughts and feelings from today. 

“Hi,” you say, cautiously. 

He hums in response, pulling you into a huge, sweeping kiss as he smiles against your lips. 

“Hello, my love,” he grins, as he pulls away from the kiss. 

You can’t help it, and you wish it were different, but there’s a pit in your stomach as you begin to notice how different of spirits you’re in. 

“How was your visit with your mum?” you ask him, as if you’re trying to solve a mystery, trying to figure out where all of this energy is coming from. 

Luca, driven to boldness by his mother’s question, seems to have thrown all caution to the wind as he answers with:

“It was great! Listen, I know it’s not the best of timing but, she really wants to meet you. Before we go home. What do you think?” he pitches to you, charging through his sentence like a confident and emboldened CEO. 

“Oh,” is all you manage to get out. 

No longer as patient as you’ve come to know him, his sudden change makes you nervous, and for the first time in a long time, you panic; you feel like running. 

“Luca, I-,” you stammer, searching for the right words to just fall out of your mouth. 

But they don’t. 

So you pause, licking your lips before adding, “I’ve had a long day and… I just-, I don’t know if I’m in the right headspace for that?” 

You don’t mean for it to sound like a question, but it comes out as one. Expecting for him to be just as understanding as he’s been the last few months, you’re more than surprised when Luca seems disappointed, cross even, at your response as you’re met with silence. You watch as he presses his lips together in a thin line, swallowing as he focuses on the floor. 

You feel like you just told him that Santa Claus wasn’t real, taking a breath as you take a few steps towards him. 

You’re not sure how, under the circumstances, he could expect you to be as enthusiastic as he is, but you’re almost too afraid to ask questions – a pit in your stomach about where this could all go. 

“Honey, I-,” you sigh, taking his hands in yours as you’re quick to reassure him. You want nothing more than to remedy this, to tell him yes, but you can’t seem to get those words out of your mouth so instead you choose to explain yourself. 

“Today has been… totally fucking crazy and… I think I just want to take a nap. I-, just because-.” You pause once more, trying your best to address the situation at hand. “It doesn’t mean anything that I don’t-, that I’m maybe not ready to-.”

“Well, that’s just it, isn’t it?” he asks you, pulling his hands back and taking a few steps away. You’re silent as you watch him pace back and forth, your heart sinking as he pulls away from you. 

“Wh-, what do you mean?” you stumble through, nervously. 

Luca pauses his movements, really looking at you this time as he asks, “You say it doesn’t mean anything. But it does. To me.”

“Baby, what’re you talking about?” you ask him, taking another step towards him. 

“That you’re not ready,” he snaps at you. 

Perhaps it could be different, he could react with much more grace and compassion, but between seeing a piece of your old life, and the doubts swimming in his head, he’s not sure he can wait any longer. 

“Luca, that’s not fair,” you whisper softly. 

“I-, I know. But-,” Luca tries his best to explain, becoming increasingly frustrated with himself as he continues to talk. “I just-, it’s hard not to think it means something. That you wouldn’t want to meet her.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to meet her!” you insist, trying your best to reassure your boyfriend. “It’s just that I just said goodbye to my mother-in-law and it-, it kind of feels like… well, I can’t just replace her!” 

“I’m not-, I’m not trying to replace her!” Luca can’t help but exhale frustratedly. 

“That’s not what I meant,” you’re quick to interject, the air between the two of you suddenly feeling tenuous. 

Luca takes a breath, his jaw clenching in response to his deep feelings of jealousy. He knows it’s not fair but he reminds himself that he’s only human as his mind is filled with questions he wants to ask you like: 

Why can’t you just let go of them? and, Do you miss them more than you love me? and lastly, this one in his mother’s voice, What’s the bloody hold up?

“I know,” is what he says instead, choosing to be the better man he knows he can be. He pauses, taking a seat on the hotel bed, his eyes fixed to the floor once again. 

“Luca, I don’t understand,” you start, taking another few steps toward him so that you’re now standing in front of him. “Why are we fighting right now?”

Instead of answering right away, you search his face as he avoids your gaze, giving you more and more pause for concern. 

“I just… are you having doubts… about us? After today?” he drags out, his voice strained. 

“No, what-, where would you have gotten-, what do you mean?” you ask him, suddenly questioning if you’ve given him any reason to think otherwise. 

“I just don’t understand why you don’t want to meet her!” he exclaims with a shake of his head. 

“I never said I didn’t want to!” you’re quick to object. 

As Luca leans forward, his forearms resting on his knees, you cross your arms over your chest as it becomes more and more evident that this conversation is getting heated. 

“Luca, where is this coming from?” you ask softly, in an attempt to de-escalate the situation. 

“Well, you didn’t say yes,” he throws back at you, and it hurts more than you thought it would. 

“Yes, because-. I told you that I don't think I’m in the right mindset,” you struggle to explain. “Wouldn’t you rather I meet her when we’re both ready?”

“When you’re ready?” he points out. 

“Luca, where is this all coming from?” you repeat your question, this time more sure, a deep concern in your eyes as you drop your arms to your side. You sit down on the bed next to him this time, wanting him to know that you’re on his side. 

“It’s-,” he starts, before letting out another frustrated sigh. “I know that you’ve needed us to take things slow… but it’s been months and I just don’t understand how you’re still not ready.”

His insistence that you’re not ready only continues to frustrate you

“I’m not! That’s not what’s happening here,” you defend yourself. “Luca, please. I am ready. But meeting your mom is a whole different thing especially when, shit, babe. Especially when I’m navigating this loss and… and when you’re pressuring me like this!” 

He scoffs, “You’re just scared.”

“I-. That’s not-. Yes, I am, and so far I’ve pushed through my fears because I want to be with you. Because I love being with you, Luca,” you insist, angling your body towards him this time. 

“But right now this all feels pretty unfair and I just don’t know why, suddenly, you need me to do this. I mean, if it was this important to you we should’ve talked about it before we came.”

You pause once more, because really, you’d just like to understand why you’re fighting in the first place. 

“Why is this suddenly so important for you?”

“Because I need to know-,” he snaps, finally turning to you. “I need to know that you feel the same way that I-. Because I-.”

You know what he’s about to say so you cut him off, knowing that, regardless of whatever’s got him so tied up into knots, it’s not the right time for either of you. 

“Don’t,” you beg him, reaching out to grab his hand with yours. Luca looks up at you, returning your gaze this time and the disappointment in his eyes breaks your heart for a third time today. 

“Please, don’t say it. Not right now. Not while we’re fighting. I don’t want the first time we say it to be when we’re fighting.”

There are so many things Luca wants to say, but instead, he doesn’t, too afraid the words will tumble out of his mouth because he knows it’s not the right time either. So instead, he sits there, wondering how he got himself caught up in this mess. 

“I think I should go for a walk,” you say, breaking the thick silence between you. “Think we need to take a break… from this conversation. Before either of us say anything we don’t mean.”

“I promise. I’ll come back. I promise,” you reassure him. 

“Okay,” he finally says, agreeing with you that maybe you both need a time out from this conversation. 

“Okay.” 

You can’t help it, but you can’t get out of there fast enough. With your jacket wrapped tightly around you, you wander the city for as long as you need to, especially since the tears have come back. 

You can only imagine that it’s not been easy for Luca to have accompanied you to the funeral today, but you can’t seem to figure out what would’ve set him off like this – what could’ve filled him with so much doubt and so much urgency. You wonder what his mother must’ve said to him, wonder if something she said got into his head about your relationship. You know you’re not a walk in the park, but doesn’t everyone come with their own set of baggage? 

The answer is simple. You take a time out, then you and Luca talk this all out when you get back to the hotel. You have no intention of running away, as much as the lesser parts of you would like to do nothing but, because you’re in this. 

You know you’re in this, and even though it doesn’t seem like it, you know that Luca can feel it too. 

Your mind wanders over to what he almost said. 

I love you. 

And you love him too. 

The words have felt more and more prominent as of late, lingering in every goodbye, hanging heavy in the air as he’s held your hand through your grief, on the cusp of being said every time you make love. 

Suddenly, overcome with the urge to tell him, you turn around, power-walking towards the hotel. He said it earlier, that he just needed to know that you felt the same way, and while there is so much more you need to talk out, this feels like a good place to start. 

And more than anything, it feels like the thing that you need to do. 

You come bursting through the doors to the hotel room, finding Luca there, still pacing. His jacket is thrown on the bed in a different place, and you gather that he must’ve gone out for his own walk as well. 

“Hi,” he greets you, almost as if he’s surprised that you came back. 

“I came back,” is all you say. 

He nods slowly, before taking a seat on the bed once more, “Yeah.”

You walk towards him so that you’re now standing in front of him again.

“We have… so much to talk about… but… my walk made one thing clear,” you begin, cradling his head in your hands and lifting it to your gaze as you kneel down. “There’s something I-. I have to tell you that….”

His eyes meet yours as you finally say it: 

“I love you, Luca.” 

Overcome with a swell of emotions, Luca pulls you in, kissing you as you crawl onto his lap. You press your lips to his in a passionate kiss, and while he entertains you for a few more moments, he finally pulls away with a chuckle. 

“What?”

“It’s just that-. Well, I wanted to say it first,” Luca chuckles, earning a laugh from you as well. 

“Well sometimes things happen unexpectedly. Like meeting you,” you say, pressing your forehead against his as you whisper the words against his lips. “And I need you to know… that that was the very best thing. You are the very best thing.”

“I’m sorry about earlier. I should’ve been more considerate. It’s not like we’re here for a holiday or anything-,” Luca begins to apologize, now that he’s come down from whatever had possessed him earlier. 

“You’re right. I wasn’t being fair to you, my love.”

“No it’s-, you needed to hear how I felt. And I get it now. This… whole trip has been… weird, I know,” you catch up to him, wanting him to know that you understand. “But I so appreciate you owning your part in it too.”

“My mum just, I don’t know. She got in my head. Had me overthinkin’... About us. Made me realize that I’ve got a lot more on the line here to lose,” Luca tries to explain as you leave soft kisses across his face. 

“And what does that mean?” you ask him playfully, knowing exactly where this could go. 

“It means that,” he starts, a cheeky smile on his face, before Luca leans in for another kiss. This time, he whispers the words against your lips. 

“That I love you too. So, so much.”

 -------------------------------

You’ve asked, requested, demanded really, time and time again to see photos, but as you sit in Luca’s mum’s home, staring at a photo of a young, rebellious, teenage Luca, it’s better than you could’ve ever imagined. 

“And that was his ‘I just want to be normal like the riff raff that he was runnin’ around with’ phase,'' his mother, Elaine, explains over your fit of giggles. 

“Oh mum. Can we not, please?” Luca groans, shooting his mother a playful glare. 

“He insisted that ‘Luca’ was too strange of a name. Not a proper English name either. Insisted I call him ‘Lucas’ so, yes, this is Lucas,” Elaine continues to share, against her son’s wishes. 

“God, that’s so embarrassing. I don’t know why I wanted this to happen in the first place,” Luca sighs, looking from you to his mother.

“Oh honey, I think I just fell in love with you all over again,” you giggle, giving his knee a squeeze under the table. “And yes, Elaine. I will be taking this photo with me. Think we should hang it on the fridge.”

Luca groans again, while Elaine exchanges a glance with her son, an entire conversation being had with just a shared look. 

As Elaine continues to share another photo of ‘Lucas,’ pouring over old family photos and memories, you’re sure that this man is the love of your life. 

You’ve had first love, the naive kind that breaks your heart because it’s the first time that you’ve ever felt this way before – the good and the bad. And then there was Joe, who somehow encompassed the feeling of being forever young, while being the love that grew you up too. But this? Loving Luca makes you feel safe and wild at the same time – like at any moment you could take a risk, knowing that you’ll always have a safe place to land. 

And as you look to Luca, watching him beg his mum not to embarass him any further, you smile knowingly, because you can feel that this is it. 

-------------------------------

It’s the night you launch your Winter menu, and while you recognize that if any of your signature dishes came off the menu, there would be riots in the streets, you’re more than excited (yes, and definitely a little nervous) about the cozy additions you and Mathilde have dreamed up. 

At your pre-shift standup, your wait staff take turns practicing how to talk about some of the new dishes on the menu, and while you trust them to handle this one with care, you feel it’s important for you to speak on this one. 

“And this is the final dish that we’ve added to our winter menu,” you begin, pausing before you share. 

“As most of you know, I lost my former mother-in-law almost two months ago and um. Well, she taught me everything I know about Japanese cooking. So this is a dish for her: a red miso ramen with white miso-glazed kabocha squash, enoki mushrooms, ajitama and pickled green onions. It’s um. It’s a very personal dish to me, so I hope you enjoy.”

You watch as your staff, front and back of house, dive into the ramen bowls, trying the last dish you have to go over as a team, their faces lighting up with pure glee and sheer delight in response to the dish. 

Your phone buzzes in your apron pocket, and as you pull it out, you see a few texts from your group message with the Kimuras, in response to the photos you sent of your finished dish. 

Astrid: OMG it’s beautiful! 

Lina: I’m hungry now. Save us some!!

Joe: She would’ve loved it. :)

“Looks like I’m right on time,” you hear a familiar voice say, pulling your focus from your phone to the front door. 

“Luca! What’re you doing here?” you ask him, as you shove your phone back into your pocket, moving towards him. 

“I know it’s a big night for you. Thought I’d come in a bit later but Mathilde invited me to the standup. Thought you may need a little additional support,” Luca shrugs, as you give him a soft ‘hello’ peck on the lips. 

“Yeah, no I-. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. I just introduced the ramen, actually. Aiko’s dish,” you reply, the smile on your face undeniable as you're filled with nothing but joy and love for the man that stands in front of you. “But let me make you up a bowl.”

“I’d love that,” Luca nods in agreement. 

You make your way back to the open kitchen, watching as Jesper pulls up a chair for Luca, right next to yours. Mathilde is quick to offer him a smaller plate, welcoming him in with open arms. As you plate your dish, you can’t take your eyes off of him, and you have to remind yourself that you do need to make up this bowl of ramen at some point. 

But seeing Luca here with your team – here to support you on your big night, on a night that you’re sharing your whole heart in one bowl of noodles – you’re overcome with a deep sense of gratitude that you get to be the one who loves him. You think back to the day you met, so glad that that evening was slow, that he chose to leave the box of pastries, that he asked you to come to AOC, because if he hadn’t, who knows where you’d be? 

You walk the ramen bowl back to the table, setting it down in front of Luca with a kiss to his cheek as a bonus, as you sit down in the chair next to him. He smiles at you, a glimmer in his eyes that says, ‘thank you, my love.’

You smile back, thinking about what he said earlier, when he first walked in this evening because the double meaning isn’t lost on you. 

And because he’s right. 

Maybe, he’s always been right on time.

[sentoooo]

[anon: Can you write a nsfw alfabet with Smoke, if you haven't written one yet?] sorry i havent gotten to this one yet!!!! didnt mean to keep you waiting anon. im a little bit behind on requests, but here i am!!! i also wanna thank yall for the support, i really didn't expect to get a whole lotta numbers on my writing since this is all for self-indulgence really T_T. i appreciate each and every one of yall

cw: NSFW, amab, bondage, body worship, dry humping, little mention of blowjobs, not proofread MINORS DNI

ᴛᴏᴍᴀꜱ ᴠʀʙᴀᴅᴀ || ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴀʟᴘʜᴀʙᴇᴛ

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Tomas' HOBBY is taking care of you. Out of everyone, I think he is the most attentive. He has an entire checklist. First, he checks in with you. He makes sure you're okay afterward, he asks how the sex was, and sometimes he'll ask about his performance. He likes opening up the discussion because it shows him what he could do better, what you like, and what you'd like to try. Next, he's gonna cuddle up to you. Hold you all close, play with your hair, and pepper your face with kisses. After that, he'll carry you off to the shower and wash up, still peppering you with kisses. He just can't get his mind off your damn lips. Before you fall asleep, he insists on giving you a massage, and getting you a snack and some water, too. He'll even light some incense, as well. He's got all sorts of essential oils for you, like a whole library. And once he's finished his checklist, he keeps you close. Even in his sleep. He loves it when you lay your head on his chest.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part of his is his shoulders. They make him feel especially strong. He also thinks they hold the story of his journey, from hunting with his family to becoming a ninja with the Lin Kuei. Not to mention, they help a lot with hunting, mainly with a bow. Regardless, he's just proud of how far he has come, and he believes his shoulder specifically show that.

On you, he loves your lips. Your entire face, really. But he can never get enough of your lips. How soft & inviting they are, how warm, it's just so hard to stay away from them. He always finds himself sneaking quick kisses from you in public. He also loves heavy make-out sessions, doesn't matter if they lead to sex or not. He just enjoys the feeling of your lips on his.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Tomas prefers to cum inside, he thinks it's kind of like marking what's his. It also feels more intimate. But if you don't want him to, then he'll cum outside. And he kind of likes it, too. He likes how it looks on your stomach, particularly. He also loves to kiss you when he cums, it's even more intimate to him.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Just how much he wishes he could see you masturbate. Yeah, he can ask, but he's too nervous to. He can only imagine you, too caught up, pleasuring yourself, moaning out his name, whimpering. Yearning for him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's got some experience, just enough to know what he's doing. But he learns more with you, maybe a little too much. Because he's comfortable with you, he really likes exploring your body. And through that, he's learned of all your little quirks and such. He especially loves dragging his hand down your chest and your stomach, he finds that it makes you shiver quite a bit.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Good ol' missionary. Tomas prefers to see your face, and missionary is perfect. Keeps you two close, he can kiss you whenever, however he likes. And he gets to give you as much pleasure as possible. But, if you're feeling like a little bit of a workout, he also likes London Bridge, he just really likes to get in there deep. But he also loves holding you by the small of your back.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He's serious. Like Bi-Han, sex is a very sacred act to him. It's one of the things that can establish a deeper bond with you, and he prefers to keep the tone serious. He wants you to take it seriously, too.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He's smoooooth, baby. No chest hair, no pubic hair, no nothing. He likes it that way.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He's amongst the sweetest. Sex is one of the deeper connections between you, so he makes sure you know he loves you. He'll outright say it, yes, but his actions speak louder than words. Mainly his attraction to your lips, he loves kissing you any chance he gets. He also loves it when you moan into his mouth. But he also spends ample time tracing your body, kissing down your neck, your chest, your stomach, all of your body. He needs you to know he loves every part of your body. Not to mention the words he'll say. He tells you exactly what he loves about you, he'll speak to you in Czech. Doesn't matter if you don't know it, sometimes he can't find the words in English. He also calls you all sorts of sweet things, Miláček, Drahoušek, Medvídek, Kotě.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't really need to jack off that much. Maybe like thrice in two weeks? But he prefers you, so he doesn't jack off unless he really can't get you off his mind.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Body Worship. All the way. Tomas loves taking his sweet time with you, admiring every little bit about you. He especially loves all the delicious little sounds you make as he goes along, how you reach for him. He loves knowing of your yearning.

He also enjoys dry humping. Knowing that the gratification of skin on skin contact is so close but so far. Grinding up against you, moaning out your name, begging for you as if he isn't doing this to himself. He also loves it when you grinding up against his knee.

Sensory Play is another another one he enjoys. Blindfolding you, mainly. But he does also enjoy light bondage. Tying you up and blindfolding you, containing yourself. He likes the idea of being able to do anything he wants to you, with consent of course. Seeing you try to wiggle out of your restraints as he enjoys your body, rubbing his hands down your legs, kissing your chest, all of that.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Tomas actually prefers fucking outside in the forest. He likes the mood, it reminds him of the nights he'd hunt. It kind of brings something primal out of him! But he doesn't mind doing it in his room, or yours. He is kind of into shower/bath sex, as well. Even if it doesn't require penetration, if he can still jack you off in the bath, he'll enjoy it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

As mentioned before, simply kissing you gets him off. He loves when just a small peck leads to a nice, passionate kiss, to a full on make-out session. Especially when you end up on top of him. But he also loves watching you fight. He knows you're skilled, but just watching you in action gets him a little excited.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He hates being teased. In any sort of way. He likes to keep the rhythm going, because he's very in the mood. So edging, or a ruined orgasm really doesn't fly in his book. He hates having to beg or ask for permission to cum.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He can go either way, he likes it when you give him head, but if you ask for him to go down on you, he doesn't mind either. He kind of likes it, regardless. He likes doing anything that makes you squirm with his touch, so if you want him to, gladly. But if you offer to give him head, he won't refuse. He loves it when you deepthroat him, especially.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He's got a moderate pace, not to fast, not to slow. Depends on the mood, really. If you two are having a quiet night, being soft with each other, he'll go slow & sensual. But, if things are getting heated, he's gonna go faster. And rougher, if you want. Especially in the woods, that's where he likes to fuck you pretty.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

You'd have to convince him. If you two haven't been able to enjoy sex for about a month, he's okay with it. He knows the importance of sex, and just releasing that energy once in a while. But if you two have time for a full-fledged night, then he'd prefer you two wait until then.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's perfectly fine with where he is. He isn't really comfortable with risks or experimenting, he thinks he's doing fine as is. And he knows you feel good with him, so to him there's no point.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Alllll night. And maybe shower sex, afterwards. But he's all tuckered out in the morning. Because of his training (and prior hunting), he has more than enough stamina. He just needs at least a day to recover, if you do go all night.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Not really, only the needs to tie you up in light bondage. But if you have toys, he'll gladly use them, and incorporate them into sex regularly. He loves giving you the extra boost of pleasure.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Tomas doesn't tease, he's probably the fairest out of the roster. Because he hates being teased, he won't tease you in any way. Even if you argue that his extensive body-worship routine is teasing. You both know it's not.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Depends on the mood. If it's a sensual night, he's rather quiet, moaning directly into your ear. But if you two are out in the woods, and he's goin' rough, he'll be a lot louder, even growling a bit. Actually, some of the words he says has a bit of a growl to it, too.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Sometimes, when he's real into it, he has a little bit of a Czech accent. Obviously, when he's speaking Czech. But even some phrases in English will have a little bit of accent to it. Especially when he's closer to your ear. It's not something you hear much, since he's been with the Lin Kuei longer than he had been in Prague.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Tomas is a grower, 6.2" in length when hard, 1.6" wide. Leans slightly to the right, and moderately veiny.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He's really just ready whenever you are. His sex drive isn't the highest, but it isn't low, either. He's patient, he can wait until whenever.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depends on how long you two went on for. If it was all night, all he can really do is finish his aftercare checklist, and then he'll pass right out on your chest. But if you two only went for like three rounds, he's making an effort to stay up until you're asleep.